Nothing Is As It Seems
by cypher2012
Summary: The gang finds a mysterious, unconscious woman in Sherwood covered with bruises and looking as though she has been traveling for weeks.  Who is she? What does she want? And why can't Allan stop thinking about her?  Set sometime in season 2.  Allan/OC.
1. A Voice in the Dark

**Hey everyone! Thanks for taking the time to read my story. It's my first Robin Hood fic so I hope that I get the characters right!**

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"What do you reckon happened to her?" a voice spoke out from the dark.

"It looks like she fell and hit her head," another male voice answered the first.

"Oh really?" The first voice retorted sarcastically. "You think so? I'd never have guessed that."

The second man's response came in the form of an indignant huff.

"Anyone else have any more brilliant ideas?" The first man asked.

The silence was deafening.

"Well, it wasn't an accident, obviously, right?" the first man continued.

"Now, we can't be sure of that," a third man said.

"Look, I'm not being funny," the first man continued, "But people covered with bruises who wind up unconscious in the middle of the forest probably don't do it on their own, now do they?"

Again, there was silence.

"Well, we'll find out soon enough," the third man said. After a pause, he continued, "How is she?"

A fourth person responded, this time it was a woman with a Saracen accent. "It's hard to be sure with head injuries. We can't know until she wakes up."

"All right," the third man said. "You heard her. Let's go, lads."

Rustling and shuffling could be heard, followed by several brief good-byes and good-lucks and then all was quiet as the darkness encroached once more.

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**Can anyone guess who our mysterious voices are? Virtual cookies to everyone who can! Please review and tell me what your first impressions are! **


	2. The Plot Thickens

**Hey all. So I forgot to mention last time that I do not own Robin Hood (if I did, there would have been quite a few changes, I assure you!). So, no, I do not own Robin Hood, but I do own my mysterious character who will soon become not so mysterious :). Enjoy!**

Movement. Thought. They both came with great difficulty. She wanted to move, she _wanted_ to speak, but her limbs were too heavy and her thoughts were sluggish.

With great effort and much coaxing, her pale eyelids fluttered once, twice, and finally were able to remain open. Her sapphire blue eyes looked up at a cerulean blue sky through the branches of several trees, still laden with green leaves, waving in the gentle breeze.

She squinted her eyes in confusion, furrowing her brow. Her body ached and she surmised that she was laying on some sort of wooden bench or table. She felt more than saw that there were several people gathered about her and, licking her dry lips, she tried to push words through her parched throat. "Are we in a wood?" she asked, her voice soft and raspy.

A man's face appeared in her line of vision as she continued to stare confusedly at the sky. It was a handsome face with clear, pale blue eyes, a small mouth, and a nose that was slightly too large. His golden brown hair was tousled and a scanty beard covered his jaw line and upper lip, which cracked into a brilliant, crooked smile.

"Well, hello, there," he said and she recognized him as the sarcastic first man she had heard speak while fighting the darkness.

Turning her eyes back to the sky, she reached her right arm underneath her and began to push herself up off her back until she was in a sitting position, leaning on her left arm. She looked around herself and saw five men standing in what seemed like a hide-away in the woods. She had indeed been lying on a wooden table and the men crowded around it in a semi-circle, but none as close as that first man.

Her head was throbbing and she felt nauseous. Closing her eyes, she brought a hand to her forehead and placed the heel of her palm against it, pushing with a slight force, but a curiosity stole over her and she reopened her eyes to examine the men. Removing her hand a few inches from her head, she stared at each of the men, pointing at each one with a slightly curved finger as she studied each of them.

The man furthest to her left was a bear of a man, over seven feet tall and with dreadlocked hair to his shoulders. He held a bowl of soup in one of his large hands, while the other held a spoon halfway to his mouth, forgotten. The second man wore a shocked expression upon his face, his blue eyes wide and his mouth slightly agape. He wore a cloth cap over his reddish-blond hair to keep it from his face. Next to him was a man younger than the others and he was tall and lanky with dark hair, and a hatchet was hanging from his belt. The last man had dark blond hair that curled into his eyes and a short beard that covered his face and neck. He wore a green sweater and buckskin pants and his eyes were blue with dark lashes. He stood with his arms folded across his chest and feet spread wide.

The men all looked like ruffians, like they were men of the forest, yet two stood out as disturbingly familiar. She returned her pointing finger suddenly to the second man wearing the cloth cap, squinting her eyes in concentration.

Memory sparked and she breathed a single word, "Much."

Four male heads spun in the now stammering man's direction with clear astonishment.

"I don't believe we've met," Much finally managed to say. "Have we?"

She opened her mouth to speak when the man standing next to her placed a warm hand on her shoulder, gently steering her to lie back down. "You took quite a fall, maybe it's best you lie down for a bit," he said softly.

She smiled, allowing him to push her back to the table. Looking into his eyes, she joked, "Why? You mean that the forest is only spinning for me?"

The man looked immediately concerned, so, remembering the phrase she had heard him use earlier, she laughed, "And I _was_ being funny."

The man gave a short bark of laughter and folded his arms across his chest.

She suddenly felt rather tired and rested back into the table, closing her eyes. They had only been closed a few seconds when she opened them to search out Much. She pointed at him with a lazy finger. "You were always one of my favorites, you know," she said sleepily. Her eyes were barely open so she was unable to see the confused and questioning looks being passed among the men. "You talked a lot," she continued. "My father and I used to call you Chatterbox. I didn't mind though, because you had the most amazing and amusing stories. You never patronized me; instead, you talked with me. You were the only one who did that. I never thanked you properly, so, thank you, Much. It meant the world to me." She trailed off slowly and finally her head drooped as she fell into a deep sleep.

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**Another short one, unfortunately, but stay tuned because, hopefully, soon I will have some time to write a bit more. What do you think so far? Please, please review!**


	3. Questions

**Hello, everyone! First of all, let me apologize for not updating sooner. I went home for the Thanksgiving break and I can't upload there (dial-up internet is just TOO slow- grrrr) so I had to wait until I came back to school. On the plus side, I wrote five more chapters so they will be coming your way very soon!**

**Secondly, I really want to thank everyone who reviewed this story. They were the first I have ever gotten! They made my day.**

**Now, without further ado, I give to you the third chapter. It's sort of short, but it was a good place to end it, I thought. Enjoy!**

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Allan glanced around him at the other men in the camp. He was not the only one with his mouth hanging slightly agape. Poor Much looked as if he were about to fall over and Robin had his hands on his hips, staring at the ground and shaking his head slowly. Everyone else, like Allan, was staring at Much, waiting in vain for him to speak.

When Allan could no longer stand Much's silence, he asked, "Much, what was that all about?"

Beginning to pace back and forth, Much was silent until he finally stopped, stretched his arms out and said, "I have no idea. I've never seen her before in my life!"

"Are you sure about that, Much?" Will asked.

Much covered his face with his hands, thinking. He lowered them and let them fall to his sides, slapping off his thighs. "I honestly do not remember her," he said earnestly. He glanced at Robin who was being uncharacteristically silent.

Robin spun in a small circle, turning to point at Much. "How did she know your name then?" he asked.

"And that you talk all the time?" Allan added.

Much just shook his head quietly.

"Well, one's thing is for certain," Robin continued, "There's never an uneventful day here in Sherwood."

Robin turned and left the camp and Will followed. With one last glance at the woman on the table, Much returned to the stove, lost in thought. John suddenly seemed to remember that he was holding a spoonful of soup and brought it to his mouth, making a face when he realized it was cold.

With a sigh, Allan returned to studying the woman before him. She was wearing a deep purple dress torn in several places, covered with a dirty white apron and brown, travel worn boots. She looked young, no more than twenty-five, and had bright red hair down to the middle of her back, which was full of snarls and small twigs and leaves, as if she had been running headlong through the forest. Her skin had a pale, ivory complexion and her lips were full and red. Earlier, when Allan had looked into her eyes, he had been startled to find that they were a deep, mesmerizing blue, like the sky at dusk. Now, with her eyes closed, he could see her fair eyelashes and the splattering of light freckles across her nose and cheeks. He then studied the bruises and abrasions on her soft face. There was a scratch across her left cheekbone and her right eye was blackened, the yellowing edges suggesting that it had happened days ago. Her lip was split and as he glanced down, he could see that her wrists were rubbed raw, as if she had been bound for a time. Her clothes, face, and hands had a thin layer of dirt on them, further leading him to believe that she had been on the road for quite some time, but also that she was in trouble.

Allan jumped as he heard a loud thud behind him. Turning, he saw that Robin had placed a few logs of wood next to the stove and was walking over to him. He stood on the opposite side of the table and looked down at the girl.

"She looks like she's getting better," Robin said quietly, gesturing to the color in her cheeks. "Djac should be back soon though and she can take another look at her."

Allan nodded and quickly glanced back down as he saw the woman begin to stir and her eyes slowly fluttered open. For a moment, Allan saw confusion in her eyes and then it was replaced with recognition as she stared into Robin's face.

"Robin," she breathed, closing her eyes and readjusting her position, "You _were_ my favorite. You taught me how to shoot a bow," her head fell to the side again as her breathing became deep and she fell back asleep.

Allan threw up his hands in surprise at Robin's expression. "Wait; let me guess," he said, "You don't know her either, am I right?"

After opening his mouth and closing it, Robin said, "No."

"Aw, now this is just uncanny, Robin," Much said, brandishing a wooden spoon.

Robin shifted his weight to his other foot, folding his arms and racking his memory. "I can't place her face. You would think that I would remember that hair, but I can't. Course, it doesn't help that her face is so badly bruised." Robin ran a hand through his hair and began to pace in silence.

After a few moments, Allan heard a commotion as Djac returned to the camp. "How is she?" she asked the men, holding a branch of red berries in her hand.

Each of the men passed knowing looks between them, unsure of what to say as Djac looked at each of them in turn. "What is it?" she asked.

Allan turned to Djac. "Well," he started, "She woke up."

"That's excellent!" Djac smiled and moved to the bed, taking Robin's place.

"Yeah," Allan trailed off. "Yeah, it was great. Right up to the point where she picked out Much and Robin and called them her favorites."

Surprised, Djac looked questioningly at Allan who just shrugged. "Yeah, we don't get it either," he said.

Djac looked back down at the woman, "She is sleeping now. That's good. When she wakes, I'm sure that she'll be able explain. Head injuries can be odd sometimes."

"I'm not being funny, but," Allan said, "I'm pretty sure that if someone conked me on the head I wouldn't wake up and be able to name a complete stranger, now would I?"

He was met with several unimpressed looks.

"I'm just saying," Allan replied and turned to leave the camp.

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**Like I said, it was a short one, but I plan on posting the next chapter later today. Review, please, and tell me what you think!**


	4. The Beginning of Something Great

**I was going to wait a little bit longer before I posted this, but I really want your opinions so far.**

**All right, guys, here it is: the fourth chapter. Questions will be answered. **

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The night was so dark that at first she thought that she hadn't awoken at all, but that she was still in that place of perpetual void where she was alone with her fears and dreads. They were a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach, they turned her mouth bitter, and they filled her with such a sense of urgency that her limbs began to shake with anticipation.

When she had opened her eyes to the black forest, that anticipation had not left her as it usually did. It was still coiled up inside her like a spring and she needed to release the tension or implode.

Slowly and carefully, she pushed herself into a sitting position from the table, causing her head to begin a dull ache that quickly intensified, centered around a point near her left temple. She cautiously reached a hand to the sore spot and gasped when she felt crude stitches holding a gash about an inch and a half long together. She tried to remember what had caused it, but the event escaped her memory.

Still feeling the need to move, to walk, she flung she thin blanket covering her body back and sucked in a breath at the chilly night air. Noiselessly, she swung her feet off the table and shakily slid from it onto her unsteady feet. Her right ankle was slightly sore, as if she had rolled it, but she gingerly put more weight on it until she thought it would hold. Finding that she could hobble, she began walking her odd gait out of the camp and into the forest.

She didn't pay attention to where she was going or how far, she just kept walking, her mind clear. She breathed in the clean, crisp air and a small smile crept across her lips. The sensation felt foreign and she realized that for the first time in a while, she felt completely and utterly safe. With this realization came the revelation that she no longer needed to run, to release the tension of the spring. There was no tension. She was calm and comfortable, enveloped by the shelter of the trees.

Content, she leaned her head back to look at the sky, disappointed to see a cloud cover blocking the stars. She sighed and laid herself down upon the cold ground, closing her eyes and listening to the forest.

"You shouldn't be out here alone."

She jumped up into a defensive crouch instinctively, her eyes darting about her with a feral look and her right hand reached into the small of her back for her dagger before realizing that it wasn't there. A hooded figure emerged quickly from behind the nearest tree with his arms outstretched.

"Whoa, whoa," it said, "It's just me." The figure pushed back his hood to reveal the man that had stood next to her when she had woken before.

Breathing deeply to return her heartbeat to normal, she sat back down on the ground, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. The man walked up to her and sat down on her right side.

With a chuckle, the man said, "Look, I'm not being funny, but you don't know _me_, do you?"

With a puzzled frown, she said, "I beg your pardon?"

"Well," the man conceded, "You gave poor Much quite a fright back there. Not to mention Robin as well."

Still confused, she said, "I'm afraid that I don't quite understand."

"Knowing who they were, I mean."

"But we'd met before," she said slowly, still not comprehending. "It's not like I'm a stranger."

"That's it though, isn't it? You are to them. They don't remember you," he replied.

Shaking her head, she said, "But I can recall their faces so vividly. How can they not know who I am?"

"Got me," he said with a smile.

He looked at her for a moment, meeting her eyes with his own blue ones as his smile started to fade. Suddenly, he raised his right hand and held it before her. "Allan A Dale," he said.

She placed her hand into his, surprised at the warmth that traveled up her arm and smiled, "I'm—," she paused, frowning slightly. Shrugging, she continued, "Well I'm…"

She began blinking quickly as she searched her brain, willing herself to find the information that she was looking for, letting go of his hand. "My name is…um…it's uh…"

With her left hand, she began to rub her forehead, feeling her name on the tip of her tongue, but not being able to spit it out, like it was locked behind a partition in her mind. Panicked, she began to hyperventilate and shake. An increasing dread welled up from her core and the darkness began to close in, chilling her to the bone.

Warmth quickly filled her as she felt Allan place a strong arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to his body. His right hand cupped her cheek and turned her face toward his, his eyes capturing her own and looking much deeper into her being than they should have been able to. She felt his gaze deep in her heart and that sense of calm she had found only moments earlier returned, quelling her shaking and dousing her dread.

Exhaling a deep breath, she whispered, "I don't remember who I am."

Nodding, Allan spoke softly, "It's all right. You're all right."

"I believe you," her heart said, her breath puffing against his cheek.

Suddenly, they both seemed to realize the intimacy of the moment and their proximity so Allan released her and shifted back, clearing his throat.

"I meant what I said earlier."

She looked at him questioningly and he continued, "About you being out here alone. It's easy to get lost and turned around."

She nodded. "I know. I just needed some air, I suppose."

She stood and dusted off her backside, turning back and walking the way she had come previously. Before she had taken more than three steps, she heard Allan clear his throat again. Turning back, she saw that he hadn't moved. Slowly, he pointed in a different direction than the one she was going. "Camp's back this way," he said, trying to keep a straight face.

Face burning with embarrassment, she gestured for him to take the lead and said, "Course. I knew that. I was just testing that _you_ knew the way back to camp."

He laughed and replied, "Right. And I'm the king's mother."

Smiling, she joked, "I'm afraid that you're not quite pretty enough, Allan A Dale."

He placed a hand over his chest, "I'm wounded. You mean to say that you don't think I'm pretty?"

"I didn't say that, now did I," she walked up to him and chucked him under the chin before walking past him. She spun back and continued, "I just said that you weren't pretty _enough_."

Allan stood rooted to the spot, watching her walk the direction he had pointed. He didn't know how he felt. On the one hand, his heart was beating so fast that he thought it would fly out of his chest and his stomach was so jittery that he placed a hand over it to try and calm it. He was _giddy_ and knew without a doubt that he was smitten. Now that she was no longer at his side, he felt a pressing need to situate himself near her, yet he had only known her for a few precious hours.

Therein lay his problem. He didn't know where she had come from, what she was running from, or how she had ended up unconscious in Sherwood. He was falling for a girl that he didn't even know, but, more importantly, he was falling for a girl who didn't even know herself.

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The following morning, Allan searched Djac out, finding her down near the stream filling several jugs with water.

"Good morning, Allan," she said cheerfully.

"She doesn't remember," Allan said, getting straight to the point.

Frowning, Djac asked, "Excuse me?"

"Her," Allan said, unable to think of another, more suitable name to call her. "She doesn't remember who she is."

Understanding came to Djac's face and she stepped up the bank of the stream to look into Allan's face. "You remember when I said that head injuries could be odd?" she asked. Allan nodded. "My father said that it was not uncommon for his patients to experience partial or, sometimes even total, memory loss after receiving a wound such as hers."

Worried, Allan asked, "Is it permanent?"

"It's hard to say," Djac said, shrugging. "For some, it is permanent. For others, all, or most, of their memories return with time. It cannot be forced, Allan. I'm sorry."

Allan nodded and turned to go, when another thought made him turn back around. "Would her head injury make her think she knew someone that she didn't?" he asked.

"You mean like she did with Much and Robin?" Djac clarified. "It would be possible for some, I suppose, but she spoke their names, didn't she? How would she have known those?" She shook her head, "No, I would say that those are true memories."

"How can she remember Much and Robin, but not herself?"

Again, Djac shrugged. "Maybe she _wanted_ to forget."

Feeling no better now that he had gotten some answers, Allan turned and slowly trudged back to camp.

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**Hehe. Okay, so maybe I lied and NO questions were answered. Please don't punish me by not reviewing!**

**On a serious note, what did you think of the Allan/nameless character chemistry? Do you like her or not? Let me know.**


	5. Danny

**Hello, again everyone. Three things: first, I uploaded two chapters the other day so I just wanted to make sure that everyone had a chance to read Chapter 3: Questions instead of going straight to Chapter 4: The Beginning of Something Great. Secondly, I had hoped to receive at least one measly review before posting the next chapter, but that was selfish of me so I'm sorry (I'm not saying that I wouldn't love to get one...anonymous reviews are greatly appreciated...I would love you forever...hint, hint). Thirdly, these next few weeks are the end of my semester so I am going to be wicked busy and probably won't be able to update this story as much as I should like. Just apologizing in advance. Okay. Chapter 5, here we go.**

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Lost deep in thought, Allan navigated his way back to camp, barely managing to avoid trees as his feet moved of their own accord. Thinking on what Djaq had said, he wondered how a person could wish to forget herself, to lose herself to darkness. Sure, there were moments of his life that he wished to forget—his betrayal of Robin and the boys, for example—but to completely forget himself? It was inconceivable.

What had she been through, this mysterious woman who seemed to have taken up residence in his mind?

Allan had been drawn to her from the moment he had first seen her sprawled unconscious on the ground three days ago. He had been gathering firewood with Little John, when he heard John cry out, dropping his load to run to some unseen thing. Curious, Allan had followed John down a steep hillside and saw John fall to his knees, blocking what he was hunched over so that Allan couldn't see.

Coming up behind John, the first thing Allan had seen was her long tresses of red hair, gleaming brightly in the dimming sunlight and covering her face. He fell quickly next to John, studying the woman. She had seemed so delicate lying there on the ground, her head next to a rock and her body wrapped around a large tree trunk, as if she had fallen down the hill and the tree had stopped her descent. Gently, he had brushed the hair from her face and gasped at the sheer beauty of her face, even with the yellowing bruises and shallow cuts.

"Is she-?" Allan had asked John.

"Yes," he had said, "She's alive…barely." He had gestured to the rock, which Allan could now see had traces of dried blood on it. He carefully lifted her head to reveal the gash on her temple. An almost debilitating sense of fear had taken hold of him and he began to roll her motionless body over.

"Quick," he had said, "We have to get her to Djaq."

John had picked her up easily and Allan led the way back to the camp, clearing the table with a quick swipe of his arm. Djaq had tended to her and Allan hadn't been able to bring himself to leave her side. There had been an odd feeling in his chest and he had felt a certain need to protect this woman.

That need had only intensified from the moment that she had first opened her eyes and looked at him. Those blue eyes mesmerized him, looked through him to his core. Last night, it had felt so right, so natural, for him to comfort her in her distress. Without him consciously directing his limbs, they had pulled her into him and cupped her incredibly soft cheek. The sensation of her breath on his face had made him want to simply close his eyes and revel in her nearness.

While she had lain unconscious on the table, Allan had wondered what she was really like. He had imagined a soft spoken, shy, green-eyed girl who would turn to him for help and protection, but the reality was fast becoming more intriguing than his fantasy. For starters, her blue eyes were a pleasant surprise, as was her sense of humor, but the loss of her memory both plagued and interested Allan. He wanted to know her, but he liked the idea that she had a blank slate of sorts, one that he began to hope she would write his name on.

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He came down the hill into the camp, seeing that Much had made breakfast as he, Robin, John, and Will were eating some sort of slop. He continued to study the camp, eyes coming to rest upon the now vacant table.

Concerned, Allan raised a hand, gesturing toward the table and asked, "Where is she?"

Four heads spun quickly to the table and noticed for the first time that they were the only ones left in the camp. Allan sighed.

"Split up," Robin ordered, setting down his bowl. "Find her."

The men set their own bowls down and picked up their various weapons, pushing past Allan on their way into the forest. Turning to look after them, Allan called out, "Wait!"

They all stopped and Robin said, "What?"

Allan walked up to them and rested his hands on his hips. "She doesn't remember who she is."

He was met with several blank looks.

"Apparently," Allan continued, "If you hit your head hard enough, like she did, it's possible to forget things. Djaq said that she might remember with time, but I just thought you ought to know."

"If she doesn't remember herself," Robin began, "then how can she remember Much and me?"

Allan shrugged, "That's the question, isn't it?"

"All right, we split up. Bring her back here if you find her," Robin said. "We'll try and figure this out then."

The men scattered and an hour later, Allan returned to camp empty-handed, hoping that someone else had found her and that she was unharmed. Coming down the hill to camp, Allan sighed with relief when he saw her standing at the mouth of the camp. Seeing him coming, she met him halfway, already apologizing, "I'm sorry, Allan. I didn't mean to worry everyone. I wanted a chance to wash, but I didn't want to wake you and it took longer to find a place than I thought it would."

Her freshly combed hair was still damp and now free of the twigs and leaves it had ensnared earlier and her pale face was free of dirt. She was biting her bottom lip in uncertainty, worried that Allan was angry with her.

Looking past her, he could see that everyone else had also made it back to camp and he smiled. "Thank goodness. I didn't want to hurt your feelings, but you were looking pretty sorry earlier."

Playfully, she punched his arm. "Sorry looking, was I? Have you seen yourself lately, Allan A Dale?"

"I'm an outlaw!" he exclaimed by way of an explanation, laughing softly.

"Yes, well," she said, still smiling, "it's no excuse. Just because you live like an animal doesn't mean you have to look like one."

"Noted."

Smiling like idiots, they looked at each other for a moment before she grabbed his hand and dragged him back into the camp and pushing him down into a chair. "Much says that you missed breakfast," she said as she handed him a bowl of the slop he had seen earlier. He simply stared at it until she said, "Go on, eat up."

Hesitantly, he picked up the spoon and ate the first mouthful slowly, quickly scarfing the rest down to avoid tasting it. Breakfast was Much's worst meal by far. When he looked back up at her, she had a slightly speechless look upon her face, but then she said, "Apparently, you eat like an animal as well."

Smiling, he replied with a single word: "Outlaw."

He suddenly became aware of the rest of the gang looking at them with amusement. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he asked her, "Have you met the boys?"

When she shook her head, he gestured at each in turn, "That's Little John, Will, Djaq, and you already know Much and Robin." She smiled and nodded at each as Allan continued, "Boys, this is…" he studied her hard, trying to come up with a suitable name for her personality and looks. Deciding upon one, he finished, "…Danny."

She snapped her head back to him, with an incredulous look on her face. "Danny?" she spluttered.

"I think it fits," Allan explained. "What? Have you got a better idea?"

She shook her head.

"Danny, it is then."

She stood and snatched Allan's bowl away from him. "Fine. I suppose that Danny will do until I can remember my true name."

Robin smiled, "I like it. Makes you like one of the lads."

The rest agreed and she smiled, her cheeks turning red, "Thank you." Her eyes flicked back to Allan before she gathered up the dishes and went to wash them in the stream.

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**Hmm. I'm beginning to sense a pattern that my chapters are pretty short. However-just a heads up-there is one coming that should be monstrous because there is just no conceivable way to break it up.**

**Yeah, don't know why I named her Danny. It just kind of popped into my head that everyone in Robin's gang has a guy's name so I thought that I would run with it. What do you think? Do you think it fits her? Aren't you just _dying_ to know her real name? Hehe.**

**Till next time, folks. **


	6. Sparks

**Hello. First off, thank you so so much to my anonymous reviewer! I'm so bad at judging height so thanks for telling me how wrong I was about Little John! I guess I just wanted him to seem really large. I am going to try to make my chapters longer, I promise! These next two that I have written are quite a bit longer than my previous ones. **

**Secondly, I am so excited that we have finally reached this part of the story! Here is where (I hope, anyway) it really starts to pick up and get awesome!**

**...Not long now before some answers will be coming your way...who knows? Maybe they're in here. Then again, maybe not.**

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The days passed quickly and soon Danny fell into a pattern of living with Robin and his Merrymen. She took over cooking for a very thankful Much and did most of the other chores around the camp during the day while the gang was off doing what they did best. She both respected and loved the men (and Djaq, of course) for what they did, but when they asked her to go with them to drop-offs, she vehemently refused.

She couldn't quite explain, even to herself, why she felt so strongly about staying in the forest, but she assumed that it had to do with her newfound safety. The thought of having to leave the shelter of the trees caused her to break out in a cold sweat, which frustrated her because she couldn't remember why the outside world frightened her so.

A week passed in this way, with Danny becoming a much-loved part of the group, before everything changed.

They had all been sitting down, eating a lunch that Danny had prepared and laughing over some blunder that Much had made, when they heard a clanging coming from one of Robin's alarms. All, except for Danny, exchanged their bowls for weapons and called out hasty good-byes as they walked off into the forest to relieve some poor noble from his not-so-poor moneybag.

Alone now, Danny had finished her lunch and cleaned up some before sitting down to stitch a hole that Little John had torn in one of his shirts. She began to hum and soon lost track of time as she went through the rest of her mending. By the time that she had finished her pile, the gang had still not come back and she began to worry. Little jobs like these never took them very long, but they had been gone for much longer than they should have been.

Worried, she stood, instinctively grabbing one of Robin's extra bows and quivers, and she walked into the forest after them.

Several minutes later, Danny began to hear voices. She quickened her stride until she crested a hill and stopped short, quickly ducking behind a large oak. Peering around it, she looked down towards the road and her fears were confirmed. Below her were four of the sheriff's guards and one other man, wearing leather, who seemed to be the leader. Each guard was restraining one of Robin's men while the other man hid behind Allan, holding a knife to his throat. Robin aimed his bow at them, but it was clear that he was about to give himself up to save his men.

"Surrender, Robin," the leather-clad man demanded. "Surrender or watch your little band of misfits die, starting with this traitor." The man pulled Allan's head back by his hair, baring his throat even more.

Danny gasped and she fell back behind the tree, breathing heavily. What could she do? Suddenly she remembered the bow on her back. Removing it, she held it in her hands, caressing the smooth wood with her thumb and instantly a sense of calm broke over her.

She darted from behind the tree, crept stealthily down the slope until she was close enough to see everyone's faces, and hid herself behind a fallen tree. Quickly, she reached over her shoulder, pulled an arrow from the quiver, and fit it to the bowstring. Relying on her body's memory rather than her mind's, she smoothed the feathers of the arrow and took a deep breath as she pulled the bowstring back, anchoring it to her mouth.

Just as Robin was releasing the tension of his own bowstring to surrender, Danny took careful aim. Inhaling deeply, she let fly her first arrow, already drawing her second before she saw the first hit her target: the exposed shoulder of the man holding Allan. Again taking aim, she shot another arrow into the back of the guard that restrained Will.

Seizing their chance, Robin and his men began to fight their way free as Danny shot two more arrows, saving Allan once more from the guard creeping up behind him. Danny saw Will and Djaq grab a chest from a wagon and run back into the shelter of the trees as the few remaining guards leaped onto their horses and rode off down the road. The man who had held Allan clambered awkwardly onto his horse, favoring his wounded shoulder, and kicked his horse yelling, "This isn't over, Hood!" as he followed after his men.

Seeing that the sheriff's men were gone, Danny ran from behind the tree, still clutching her bow and heading straight for Allan. "Are you all right?" she asked breathlessly as she ran into him, knocking the wind out of him.

"Yeah," he wheezed, "Yeah, I'm fine."

Danny surveyed the rest of the group, including Djaq and Will who had returned from the tree line, and saw that everyone seemed uninjured, though they all wore shocked expressions.

Robin was the first to speak. "Was that you?" he asked, still breathing heavily.

Danny looked down at the bow she held in her hand and shrugged. "I suppose. My body just sort of took over."

"Thank goodness it did," John sighed. "Otherwise, we'd all be heading back to Nottingham with Gisborne right now."

Many of the group nodded, but Robin was still spluttering. "But how? Where did you learn to shoot like that?"

Danny blinked and took a step nearer to him. "I told you," she stated matter-of-factly. "_You_ taught me to shoot a bow."

"Impossible," Robin said. "I would have remembered that and I don't."

"Look," Allan said to Robin, "Not many people other than you could have made that shot without killing me. The fact that she could is proof enough for me that what she says is true."

Again, many of the group nodded and murmured their agreement.

"I don't understand it either, Robin," Danny said, slightly troubled, "but let's just head back to camp, all right? We can deal with this later."

Hanging the bow off her shoulder, Danny began the long trek back to the camp, not bothering to check behind her to see if anyone was following. She was lost in her own thoughts. Was Allan right? Was her ability with the bow proof that she had not imagined her recognition of Robin and Much? For the past few days, she had begun to doubt herself, begun to worry that she was not going to get her memory back. Today, however, gave her hope. If her body could remember something, didn't it stand to reason that soon her mind would too?

She entered the camp with a smile on her face and returned the bow and quiver to the meager weapon supply. She was about to turn away when her hand roamed over the pommel of a short sword, sparking her memory. She pulled the sword from the pile and removed it from its sheath, shuddering with the familiarity of the sound. Her hand fit perfectly into the grip and it felt like an extension of her arm. Feeling as if something were missing, she dug through the pile of weapons until she found an identical match to the steel she was holding in her hand. Removing the sheath from that one as well, she weighed the two weapons in her hands.

With a confused frown upon her face, she turned around to face everyone. Only Much stood in the camp, but everyone was watching her every move carefully, as if she were a complete stranger that was going to attack at any moment.

She walked out of the camp and up to the other men. Still studying the weapons intently, she whispered, "I remember these."

A few moments later, she caught the glint of sunlight on steel from the corner of her eye as a sword swung down toward her. Her left arm moved to parry the blow and her right swung to strike one of her own, forcing Robin to jump back. With a confused look on his face, Robin stepped back in swinging and stabbing his blade, the expression on his face changing from shock to confusion to amusement until he finally laughed as she expertly blocked every one of his attacks.

After a minute or two, Robin sheathed his sword and folded his arms across his chest. He shrugged and said, smiling, "I guess you do remember those."

Danny shook her head as she snapped out of her reverie. Quickly glancing at those around her, she was surprised to find that most everyone was smiling with impressed shock, except for Allan whose face was blank of all emotion. She thought that he would have found her new talents as amusing as her surprise archery had been, but it seemed as if she were wrong. She threw the weapons on the ground with a frown and stepped back as if in revulsion.

"Where did you get those?" she demanded. For some reason, rage tinged her words and her voice shook as fury turned her cheeks red.

Clearing his throat, John spoke cautiously, "We found them in the woods about three weeks ago."

Danny snapped her head up. "Show me," she ordered.

Allan walked up to her and grasped her upper arms, "Maybe it would be better if we waited until tomorrow," he suggested. "Today has been a lot for you."

She took a deep breath, feeling it calm her. "I have to, Allan," she said softly. She gestured to the short swords, "Those are mine. I'm sure of it. If they were found in the forest, then that means that I was there at some point." She gazed into his eyes, "I have to know."

He was still for a moment, but finally nodded. "Will and Little John found them. They can take you."

Danny looked at them and asked, "Will you?"

Little John and Will shared a look and then Will nodded. "I will. It's about a two hours walk, but if we leave now, we should be back by dark."

Danny nodded and looked back up at Allan who wouldn't meet her gaze. "Will you come with me, Allan?" she begged softly so that only he could hear.

Sighing, he raised his head and nodded, "Course I will."

"They were over there," Will said about two hours later as he pointed toward a tall tree. "Stuck point down into the ground."

"Why?" Danny asked, bewildered.

"You tell us," Will replied.

"Oh, right," Danny said, unsmiling.

She walked over to the tree alone and placed a hand on the trunk. There was nothing familiar about this place so she turned back to Will and Allan. "Are you sure it was here?" she asked.

Will simply nodded.

Sighing, she turned back to tree and began to walk around it slowly, trailing her hand behind her on the bark. When she was about halfway around the tree, her fingers brushed over something. Looking closely at the bark, she realized that someone had gouged a small, almost imperceptible notch into the wood. Cocking her head, she drew the two short swords from their sheaths that she had attached to her belt—an act that had been so familiar to her—and after weighing the blades in her hands for a moment, she quickly plunged them toward the ground, burying the blades five inches deep into the soft earth.

_She was running and out of breath. She could hear the men behind her, crashing through the undergrowth, so close. They were catching up! They would never stop hunting her. She knew that now. _

_What could she do? They could not get the precious cargo that she carried with her. She would not let them!_

_Desperately, she ran to the nearest tree and launched herself toward the lowest branch, pulling herself up and up, hand over hand, until she could climb no further. Looking down, she realized that she had to be at least forty feet off the ground, but the fear she felt was inconsequential next to the urgency to hide what she guarded. _

_Swinging her rucksack off her back, she hung it by the straps to the sturdiest branch she could, using her dagger to stake the cloth to the tree. After tugging gently on it to make sure it was secure, she shimmied back down the trunk and dropped the last six feet to the ground._

_Pulling her short sword from her belt, she made a thin mark in the tree trunk. Fearing that was not enough and knowing that a peasant girl carrying weapons looked suspicious, she took her other short sword from her belt and plunged both points into the earth. She unbuckled the sheaths for them and to the dagger as well from her belt, and placed them next to the blades. Frantically, she reached for undergrowth and debris to quickly cover her weapons, praying that she hid them well enough. _

_With barely a moment's rest, she pushed her weary frame from the ground and began to run again. _

Danny shook her head as she snapped back to the present after being trapped within her mind. She wondered what had just happened. Had she just witnessed a memory? It felt so real that she thought it must have been.

To be sure, she looked up into the tree and searched the uppermost branches. There! She could see a cloth bag, waving in the breeze with the tree.

She stood and beckoned Allan and Will to come closer. As Allan approached, he saw that her face was devoid of any color and that she looked frightened. He quickened his pace and looked intently into her eyes. "Are you all right?"

Wordlessly, she nodded. Licking her lips, she asked shyly, "Would you give me a boost?" She gestured at the tree branch. "I'm not being funny, but what?" Allan asked, completely clueless.

"Would you lift me high enough so that I could grasp that branch, please?" she repeated.

"Why—?" Allan began.

"Just, please," she interrupted him.

Allan interlocked his fingers and held them out to her. She placed her right boot into them and he lifted her easily until she could grab the branch. With surprising strength, she pulled herself up into the tree and began to climb quickly.

Will came over and looked at Allan questioningly, who just shrugged. "Don't ask me," he said.

Will looked back up at Danny who had advanced several feet now, and yelled, "Oy! Danny! What are you doing?"

Danny paused her ascent and looked down at them. "I had a memory," she called to them. "Well, I think I did at least. In it, I hid a rucksack in the top of this tree." She pointed to where she saw it. "You see it?" she asked and then she began to climb again.

Will and Allan both squinted into the tree until they found it. Incredulously, Will said, "She's going to climb all the way up there?"

Instead of answering him, Allan shouted, "Danny, come down! It's too high, it's not safe. Let one of us do it!"

Allan growled when he realized that she was deliberately pretending not to hear his protests and continued climbing. He watched every inch of her ascent with bated breath, exhaling slowly when she finally reached the bag, swung it over her shoulders, and began to slide back down. Eventually, she dangled off the lowest branch, intending to drop to the ground, but was surprised when Allan caught her instead.

Slowly, Allan released Danny from his hold, letting her slide down his body to the ground, feeling both relieved at her safe return and angry that she had put herself in danger.

Breaking the awkward silence as Danny and Allan glared into each other's eyes, Will said, "So what was so important that you would risk life and limb to get it back?"

"I don't know," Danny said honestly. Wanting to open the rucksack in private, Danny continued, "Let's head back to camp before it gets too dark."

Allan and Will shared a look that was both hurt and confused, making Danny feel ashamed since she had caused it, but they both nodded silently and turned to head back to camp. After retrieving her short swords and returning them to their sheaths, Danny followed with one last look back to the tree.

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**Oooh. Memory flashes. It's only a matter of time now.**

**Review, pretty please!**


	7. Sprung From the Ashes

**Hey, everyone. This is the last of the prewritten chapters that I have and with all my finals and papers, I may be slow in updating. **

**Now on to something different. This is the chapter where the relationship between Allan and Danny really begins, but I'm not sure that I like what I did. If I ever really wanted opinions/praise/constructive criticism for this story, this is the chapter that I want it the most. If people tell me that they don't care for it, think that I could do better, or that it doesn't stay true to the characters, I will redo it. Like I said, I'm just not sure that I like it. Or it may just be too soon. **

**Okay, a great, big thanks-you-are-freaking-awesome to _robinhood447_ for your amazing review. I was beginning to think that people didn't really care for my writing and it made me feel amazing.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood, Allan, anyone, or anything in this story except for Danny. Wish I did, though.**

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**Chapter 7: Sprung From the Ashes**

Later that night, when Danny was sure that everyone was asleep, she stole out of the camp, carrying an unlit torch and her rucksack on her back. When she was over the hill, she paused long enough to light the torch and then she continued on until she reached the stream where they collected water.

Upon returning to camp that afternoon, Danny had been met with many questions, everyone wanting an answer about what was in the rucksack and what she had seen in her memory. She had regaled most of the memory, leaving out the sheer terror that had set her heart to beating, but she had avoided questions about the rucksack, telling them that she wasn't yet ready to open it. That she wanted to remain Danny just a bit longer.

This wasn't exactly an evasion. She _did_ want to be Danny for a while more because she was afraid. She was afraid of the person that she had been. A person that she must not have been fond of or she would not have forgotten so completely. Danny was normal, caring, personable, and carefree—or at least she had been until today, when her true personality had reared its ugly head. Danny lived in terror of remembering the person who was skilled in the art of archery and the subtleties of warfare. What had that person been capable of doing? How many men had she killed? These were questions that Danny feared the answers to and she did not wish to learn about her true self in front of people she respected so greatly.

Especially Allan. God help her, Allan was all she seemed to be able to think about lately. Over the past week, she had thought that she felt a bond growing between them, a bond of more than just friendship. She missed him when he was gone, worried about him when they went on a mission, and his was the first face that she sought out in the morning after dreaming about him all night. This afternoon, he had frightened her. He had looked so upset when he saw her holding her weapons with such ease and familiarity and Danny couldn't understand why.

She had first heard of Allan's betrayal of Robin in passing from Djaq, but she couldn't bring herself to believe it. She couldn't understand how a man as sweet as Allan and who so clearly cared about every single person in the group could turn on them. Then, because she had been too cowardly to ask Allan himself, she had gotten the whole story from Little John. After, instead of feeling disgusted and disappointed as she thought she would, she understood. All his life, until he had met Robin, Allan had been forced to look after himself. In a moment of doubt that Robin was abandoning him, Allan had reverted back to his old ways and, when he was caught, he did the only thing he could: he turned to Gisborne. While his betrayal was wrong and hurtful, Danny found herself able to forgive him and look at him in a different light. He was human. He made mistakes. He wasn't perfect, but had his flaws, just like she did.

As she sat on the bank of the stream, thinking these thoughts and holding her rucksack in her lap, Danny suddenly realized that she didn't want to—couldn't—do this alone. She knew Allan's secrets; it was only fair that he knew hers. Even if they were dirty.

Clambering up off the bank, Danny grabbed her torch and rucksack and headed back to camp. Once she was at the top of the hill, she stabbed the torch into the ground and quietly moved down into the camp. She crept over to where Allan was sleeping and knelt down next to his motionless form. By the light of the moon, she studied his handsome face and couldn't resist the urge to brush a lock of his fair hair from his forehead. He stirred at her touch so she gently laid her hand over his mouth to stop his cry from waking the others. His body tensed and his eyes jerked open, boring into her own and jumpstarting her heart, but he sagged back to the ground in relief when he saw who it was. Danny held a finger to her lips and beckoned for him to follow her.

Once they stood next to her torch, Allan whispered, "What is it?"

Looking down at the ground, Danny dragged her toe through the dirt and asked, "Will you come somewhere with me?"

Allan's harsh expression softened as he smiled, "Course, I will."

Danny grabbed the torch in one hand and then reached for Allan's hand with the other. Surprised, Allan took it and she led him silently back to the streambed, sticking the torch back into the ground. After standing in silence for a moment, Danny nervously apologized, "I'm sorry for waking you."

"It's all right."

"See, the thing is," she began, "I didn't want to open my bag in front of everyone, but when I came out here to do it, I was afraid to do it alone."

"So you came to get me," Allan finished.

Danny nodded wordlessly and then Allan asked a question she wasn't expecting and that she wasn't yet ready to answer: "Why?"

Nervously twisting her hands, Danny spoke to the ground. "I'm not sure."

"Aren't you?" Allan pressed.

Answering a question with a question, Danny asked, "Why were you so angry this afternoon when I found my short swords?"

Surprised, Allan replied, "I wasn't angry. I was watching the last bit of a fantasy unravel."

Breathlessly, Danny asked, "What do you mean?"

Clearing his throat, Allan motioned to the rucksack that she had set on the ground. "Shall we open it?" he asked, trying to avoid answering the question.

She stepped closer to him, stopping about three feet away, but he still wouldn't look her in the eyes. "I want to know what you meant," Danny said fearfully. What fantasy could he have had that had crumbled that afternoon?

Finally, he stared her back at her defiantly. "Why did you want _me _here? Instead of anyone else?"

Danny turned her back, keeping silent. She felt him step closer to her, stopping just mere inches away. If she simply leaned back, she would be in his arms and the temptation was almost too great.

A shiver traveled down her spine as she felt him bend to whisper in her ear, his breath puffing against her sensitive skin. "I want to know," he whispered. "Danny, I _need_ to know."

Digging deep and finding a courage that she didn't know she had, Danny turned around, finding herself face-to-face with the man that she was quickly falling in love with. It had been such a short time, but for as long as she could remember, he had always been there for her, even now at her most terrifying moment.

Losing herself in the deep pools of his mesmerizing eyes, Danny spoke her heart, "Because I'm falling in love with you, Allan A Dale. Each day, each moment, brings me a little closer to you."

Danny counted a span of two of her abnormally fast heartbeats before she felt Allan cradle her cheek with one hand and place the other on her slender hip, pulling her body flush with his. As if in slow motion, Danny saw his lips move toward hers and she closed her eyes as she felt the lightest, yet most wonderful, pressure on her lips. Wrapping his arms around her waist, Allan pressed his soft mouth against Danny's again and he saw stars as he felt her wrap her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her sweet mouth.

Danny could not remember ever being kissed like this. Their lips moved in unison as they each explored the other's, neither rushing nor intensifying the kiss. They just simply enjoyed the nearness that they had both been craving since the first time they had looked into each other's eyes. Danny moaned quietly into his mouth as she felt his tongue rub her lower lip and Allan took the opportunity to gently lick the inside of her lovely mouth, tangling the tips of their tongues.

All too soon, they both leaned back, breaking the contact of their lips, but not letting each other go. Danny leaned back onto her heels from her tiptoes and slid her arms down his until she entwined the fingers of her left hand with his right. Sighing, she led him to the bank and pulled him down next to her, where he placed another sweet kiss to her lips.

Releasing his hand, Danny pulled her rucksack onto her lap and was about to untie the string, when an old, familiar anxiety returned. "Do you think that I should open this?" she asked him uncertainly.

"Are you being funny?" he chuckled. "After all the trouble you went through to find it? Danny, it could have the answers you're looking for."

"What if I don't like the answers?" she asked quietly. "What if I don't remember because I was a monster? I like Danny. I don't want to lose her."

"Neither do I," Allan replied honestly, causing a warmth to spread from Danny's heart to color her cheeks.

"What did you mean earlier," Danny asked hesitantly, "when you said that you were watching a fantasy unravel?"

Allan looked out over the stream. "When we found you," he began, "I stayed by your side night and day. I couldn't drag myself away because I was afraid that you would wake up when I was gone and I wanted to be the first face you saw."

"Why?"

"Because, even then, I was starting to care for you."

"You didn't even know me."

"Yeah, I know. Hence the fantasy I made up in my mind."

Danny's heart fell. He had cared for a fantasy, not her at all as she had hoped. A glutton for punishment, Danny asked, "What was this fantasy?"

"Oh, you know, the normal," Allan said. "Damsel in distress, shy, soft-spoken. I thought that you had green eyes." Allan chuckled, but Danny didn't find this funny in the slightest.

"So this afternoon…?" she prompted.

"This afternoon," Allan continued, "I realized that you didn't need to be protected at all. You're more than capable of taking care of yourself." He paused. "You know, I thought that was the way I wanted you to be, but the reality is much better."

Danny began to hope again.

"You don't even know me," she said.

"What?" he said. "I know as much about you as you do about yourself." Danny couldn't help but laugh. "So I would say that I know you quite well."

"And you like me just the way I am?" she clarified.

"Just the way you are," Allan confirmed. "No matter what you remember or what is in that bag, I'm falling in love with you."

A smile and a blush broke over Danny's face as happiness and peace quieted her limbs and nerves. Whatever she discovered inside the bag, whoever she had been, didn't matter. It didn't matter because the man that she most respected and desired cared for her in the same way that she did for him. The woman that she had been before, the things that she had hidden in this rucksack, were inconsequential to Danny because that woman had died. The moment that Danny had opened her eyes to Allan's face, that nameless woman had ceased to exist. She _was_ Danny. Danny was her life now.

With a steady hand, Danny released the buckle on the bag and flipped back the top. Inside, Danny could see a bundle of thick, dirty black cloth. Reaching in, Danny pulled out the bundle and slowly unrolled it, discovering that it was a travel-worn black cloak. Wrapped up inside the cloak was a black, velvet drawstring bag covering a hard rectangular object.

Sharing a look with Allan, she pulled the drawstring and opened the bag, sliding it back to reveal a shiny, mahogany, wooden box about seven inches long and four inches tall, that stood on four, little wooden feet. The box was unadorned and pristine, lacking a single scratch or blemish in the wood. Danny held it cautiously in her hands.

After a moment of staring at it, Allan whispered, "Well, open it."

Her mouth dry, Danny slowly began to lift the lid, her stomach fluttering with a million butterflies. Little by little, the box opened to reveal a dark green, velvet lining….

_Danny held the black, velvet bag in her hands. "May I open it?" she asked breathlessly, her curiosity increasing exponentially with every second that passed._

_"Of course you can, dear," an unseen man said with a deep voice. _

_Smiling, she drew a wooden box made of mahogany wood out of the bag. Slightly disappointed, she asked, "What is it?"_

_Chuckling, the man replied, "Open it, child, and see for yourself."_

_Danny reached out a shaking hand and pushed back the lid, revealing a dark green lining, and she gasped at the beautiful object she found inside. _

_Resting upon the green velvet was the loveliest emerald ring she had ever seen. It was set in a silver band that was shaped like a vine with leaves branching off of it, and the stone was cut in a tear drop shape._

_"It's…wonderful, Father," she breathed._

_A man who was tall, strong, and had reddish-blond hair with brown eyes, stepped into her line of vision. "I'm glad that you like it," he said as he carefully took the ring from the jewelry box and slipped it onto the middle finger of her left hand, placing a warm kiss to her forehead. _

Danny snapped the lid of the box shut violently as she awoke from her newest blast of memory. Her breathing quickened and her anxiety returned and not even the tightening of Allan's arm around her shoulder quelled her fear this time.

"What is it?" Allan asked, concernedly.

"It was, um…" she breathed. "It was nothing."

"Liar," Allan deduced.

Caught, Danny said, "It was just another memory."

Allan's face lit up. "But that's great!" he exclaimed. "It means that soon you could know who you are."

"I know who I am," Danny snapped.

Sensing her frustration and fear, Allan calmly asked, "What was it this time? Something about the box?"

Danny nodded. "I remembered when I first received it," she began. "It was a gift. For my twentieth birthday, I believe. My father gave it to me, but it was a jewelry box and inside there was the most splendid ring I've ever seen. It was an emerald stone set in a silver band that had been crafted to look like a vine."

Silent for a moment, Allan gestured toward the box, asking, "Well? Is it in there?"

"I don't know," Danny replied honestly.

Feeling an inescapable urge, Danny once again drew back the lid. She saw the green velvet, felt the smooth rotation of the hinge, but when the box was fully opened, it was empty. Confused, Danny stuck her hand in, feeling in the corners and she turned it upside down, shaking it.

Looking at Allan, she stated the obvious, "It's empty."

"Well, that can't be right," he said. "I'm not being funny, but why would you go through all that trouble to hide an empty box?"

A terrible thought came to Danny and she stood abruptly. She had to be honest with Allan.

"Earlier, by the tree," she began hesitantly, "I wasn't entirely forthcoming about the memory I had."

Allan jumped up to stand before her, forcing Danny to look into his eyes. "What do you mean?" he demanded.

"Most of what I said was true, but," she said quickly, her voice shaking. She continued reluctantly, "I didn't mention the fear."

"The fear?" Allan asked, his eyes quickly filling with some of his own.

Danny nodded, unblinking. "In the memory, I was so afraid, Allan. I was _terrified_." She saw the question in his eyes and divulged the information she had withheld from him earlier. "There were men chasing me. They were _hunting_ me, Allan. I just knew that they wanted what I had and I couldn't let them have it. I had to protect it," she paused for emphasis, "with _my life_."

Dread dragged the remaining happiness from Allan's face. "That's why you fell."

"Excuse me?" Danny asked.

"When Little John and I found you," Allan began quietly, "It looked like you had fallen down the hill. It was steep, see, so we didn't think anything of it. But now," he scoffed, rubbing a hand across his mouth, "Now I see that you were running, you probably tripped, and the undergrowth hid you from the men who were chasing you."

"I thought that I had hidden the bag well enough," Danny moaned. "But, maybe I didn't. Maybe that's why the box is empty." Even the possibility turned her heart to stone.

Allan shook his head. "No, I don't think so."

"Why else would the box be empty?" Danny yelled. "Why would I be willing to sacrifice my life for an _empty_ box?"

Allan shrugged. "I dunno, but think about it. Why would they bother to put the bag all the way _back_ in the tree once they had what they wanted? In the exact way that you left it?" Allan shook his head. "No, I think that—for whatever reason—you deliberately put that box in the tree knowing that it was empty."

Sighing, Danny admitted, "I don't understand any of this, Allan. I'm more confused now than I was a week ago."

Allan walked to her and encircled her in his arms, placing a hand on her hair. "It'll be all right. You'll see. We'll figure this out."

Danny pushed away from him. "What if I don't want to figure this out?" she asked, her back to him.

There was a moment of confused silence, then, "What are you saying?"

"Allan," she breathed as she spun around, "I just get this…this _feeling_ that, whoever that woman is, we should just let her be."

Shaking his head, Allan replied, "But, Danny, you had an entire _life_ that was taken from you. Don't you want it back?"

She shook her head without hesitation. "No. Look what my old life earned me," she pointed to her almost healed eye and now-healthy wrists, "bruises and shackles." She walked up to him, resting her hands on his crossed arms. "I may have had a life outside Sherwood, but now I have a life _inside_ Sherwood. One that I'm not willing to part with."

He stepped back, letting her arms fall. "What about your family? Friends? Are you just going to let them think that you disappeared?"

"Look around, Allan," she exclaimed, holding her arms out to her sides. "You've been in the villages. No one is looking for a girl with red hair in a purple dress!"

"Not in _these_ villages," Allan yelled back.

Danny spun around, not wanting Allan to see that his words struck her deepest fears. She was afraid of the woman she used to be, but she could not keep her father's loving face from her mind. Could Danny selfishly suppress this other woman? Condemn her to an outlaw's life while her father longed for her by his side?

She heard Allan's sigh and his footsteps as he drew near. Unsure if she would push him away, Allan tentatively wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder, relaxing when she leaned back into him. A tear ran down Danny's cheek. How could she leave this man? Over the days that she had been with him, she had come to know his heart and personality like her own. He hid his sensitive and caring heart behind a sarcastic and conceited façade, one that she had finally broken through. She couldn't—wouldn't—abandon him.

"We'll be torn apart," she whispered, another tear falling.

Allan straightened, his arms tensing around her.

"If I remember who I was," Danny said, "we will be split apart."

"That's not true," Allan denied, but his tone revealed his doubt and uncertainty.

Wiping the tears from her eyes, Danny spun in his arms. "It is true. I don't know many things about who I used to be, Allan, but I do know this. I can feel it."

Allan tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, resting his hand upon her cheek. "I won't leave you," he breathed.

"You may not have a choice," Danny retorted, stepping away from his embrace.

She walked to the stream bank and wrapped the cloak around her shoulders, fastening it with a horribly practiced motion. She picked up the box, placed it back inside the velvet bag, and headed back to camp without taking the torch. Before she entered the tree line, she pulled the black hood over her face and disappeared into the darkness, leaving Allan alone with his fears, deflated, just like empty rucksack.


	8. Unkept Promises

**Hey guys, sorry that it's been a while since I updated. Sorry that this chapter isn't very long-it's probably not what you were expecting-but I have been trapped under a crazy workload and I'm lucky to have even written this much.**

**Okay, so I expressed some doubts in my last chapter that were apparently unfounded and I thank everyone for letting me know that! Those reviews were the kindest and most inspiring that I have gotten. I promise that I am not giving up on this story, even if I'm not able to update as much as I should like. **

**Okay, so here we go...chapter 8.**

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**Chapter 8: Unkept Promises**

Danny found herself in a part of the forest that she had never been before. She was perched atop a tall boulder that rested on the edge of an outcropping overlooking a lush valley, illuminated by a pale pink light as dawn crept into the sky. The forest was eerily quiet, or perhaps it just seemed that way to Danny because her thoughts were in such turmoil, each screaming to be attended to first.

She clutched the black, velvet bag in her hands, scrabbling for an answer against her better judgment. She wanted answers, but she did not want the unavoidable changes that would accompany the recovery of her old life. She wished to be a third party observer, having no stake in the outcome, but able to watch the events unfold from afar and having no effect on her own life. For as hard as she tried, she could not reconcile her dream with her reality.

If she remembered who she was, she would be obligated to return to wherever she came from, forsaking her life in Sherwood.

If she did not recall her past memories, she would be lost, floating through life with no apparent anchor, missing her very core.

How did one compromise two uncompromising paths? Danny knew the answer to that question as surely as she knew how to breathe: one didn't. It was an impossible task.

As tightly as she clung to that box, as much as the two women inside her warred with each other, there was a different memory at the forefront of her mind. One that was more important, more sweet, and more shattering than any other.

A blush heated her cheeks as she raised her fingers to brush her lips, the corners of her mouth tweaking up into a smile. Allan had kissed her. Allan had kissed _her_. The taste of him was still on her tongue, teasing her and making her long for more. She giggled as she realized that she was quite utterly addicted. Addicted to a man who touched her in her very soul, his name fast becoming written across her heart. Remarkably, he was accepting of a woman who had no past, but, without a past, could Danny truly have a future?

Doubt tainted her bliss. Doubt was the reason that she had not returned to camp. Doubt was the reason that she had snapped at Allan.

Guilt plagued her consciousness. She had just experienced what might possibly have been the greatest night of her life—either remembered or forgotten—and she had spoiled it with her insecurities. She maintained her previous premonitions, those unshakable truths that still lay in her heart. They whispered that she had to make a choice, but that choice was anything but simple.

Would she choose Danny, who embraced ignorance, or the warrior, who embodied truth?

Danny vacillated between her options, approaching no nearer to a decision as she sat motionless atop the ledge while dawn continued to creep into the sky.

It was early morning before Danny advanced toward the base of the hill, which led into camp. She had stumbled around the forest for almost two hours before she recognized a few familiar landmarks that had oriented her in the right direction.

Proud of herself, Danny had left that ledge with a firm decision in place. As Dawn rose, she realized that she was powerless to stop it, just as she discovered that she was powerless to stop her mind. If it decided that it wanted to recover what was lost, then so be it. If not, well, then she would simply enjoy her time with Robin and the Merrymen, allowing herself to be with Allan as long as she was able.

A part of her recognized that she was in denial, avoiding the possibility that she might one day be forced to leave behind those she cared about most, but it seemed that it was the only way she would survive. She could no longer live her days tormented by uncertainty, worried and nervous. That was no kind of life.

So it was resolutely that she began to climb the hill, lighter and determined to float with the tide, doing the things that felt right and avoiding those that did not. A smile broke over her face in spite of her dark heart, which nearly stopped when an unexpected voice called out to her.

"Where have you been?" it growled, coming from a boulder to Danny's left.

Previously unnoticed by Danny, Allan sat atop the rock, wearing a cloak that shadowed his face and obscured his eyes in the folds of the hood. The animosity in his voice shocked Danny, dispelling any remnants of a good mood she might have had. Unsure, she took a step back as Allan's angry frame leaped gracefully from the rock, landing five feet away from her.

Slowly, he rose from his crouch, folding his arms across his chest. "Well?" he demanded.

Stammering and confused, Danny wrapped the cloak around her slight frame, withering before him. Had last night just been a wonderful dream? "I was, um," she sputtered, her voice cracking with emotion, "I was just thinking. I needed some space to work things through."

"Space?" Allan practically shouted. "You needed space?" He shook his head and let his arms drop with apparent frustration. "Do you have any idea how worried I've been?"

"I'm sorry," she breathed, taken aback by his outburst.

He placed his hands on his hips. "I spent all night looking for you, scared that you had gotten lost, and you just needed _space_. To think things _through_. What things had you running off into the forest alone?"

Tears welling in her eyes because of her distress, Danny answered, "Everything. Everything that happened yesterday. The fight, the memories, the box, the…" she paused briefly, gathering her courage, "…our kiss."

Allan spun away from her, "Look, I'm sorry," he scoffed.

"Sorry?" Danny questioned his back, her heart breaking. "Sorry for what?"

She saw his shoulders sag as his hurt overcame his strength. "For kissing you. You obviously regret it, otherwise you wouldn't have run off, would you? I get it," he said quietly and began to walk away.

Utterly devastated, Danny realized what Allan meant. Last night, he had taken her fear of losing him to her inner-warrior and her retreat into the forest as an indication of the fact that she regretted their intimacy. How could she have been so blind? She had snapped at him and stormed off. Of course he would have thought the worst of her! Desperately, she acted to salvage what chance she had at happiness, a happiness she had just decided meant everything to her.

She ran after his retreating back, catching up to him frantically and stopping him by placing a hand on his chest. She tried to catch his eye, but he refused, stubbornly looking at the leaf-strewn ground.

"Allan," she breathed, her heart in her throat, refusing to remove her hand from his chest. "Allan, look at me."

Within the shadows of his hood, Allan raised his eyes and Danny's breath stopped at the hurt he could not conceal. More tears forming in her eyes, she slowly raised her hands and gently drew back his hood, uncovering his beautiful face filled with grief.

She ran her fingers through his hair, trailing that hand down his body to rest on his strong chest again. She cradled his cheek with the palm of her other hand, gazing deep into his eyes with her watery own. "Last night," she spoke earnestly, "what we shared, Allan; it was the best night of my life. I don't regret a thing, except leaving you alone on that bank. I meant every word…" her eyes trailed down to his lips and breathed, "…every kiss."

She tilted her head up and leaned toward him, capturing his lips in a painfully sweet caress. His lips were unresponsive at first, but when she pressed hers against his a second time, his arms snaked around her, pulling her closer and anchoring her to his body. He moaned softly as she entwined her fingers into his hair and he deepened their kiss, tenderly pressing his tongue into her mouth to meet her own.

Enthusiastically, she responded to his ministrations, feeling a slow heat begin to form deep in her belly. She drank him in, reveling in the feel of her hands on his body, daring to run them over his shoulders and chest, causing that flame within her to burn more brightly. Unconsciously, she whimpered as he passionately tangled a hand in her hair, pulling her more forcefully against his lips as his other hand trailed down her back to clench her hip tightly.

Time lost its meaning. Danny lost herself. In Allan's arms, nothing seemed to matter except the weight of his hands on her waist, the feel of his lips soothing her own, and the sound of his soft moans mixing with hers.

It felt like waking from the perfect dream when she and Allan separated. He rested his forehead against hers, breathing his sweet breath against her cheek, still tightly clutching her to him.

Allan let loose a short chuckle. "I'm not being funny, but," he said softly, "you could kill a man by kissing him like that."

Danny laughed, breaking the contact between their heads as she leaned back to slap him playfully on the arm. "Well, I don't generally make a habit of kissing just any man who happens to cross my path."

"You don't?" Allan quipped, a familiar mischievous glint in his eye.

Danny pushed her way out of Allan's arms and placed her hands on her hips, a thrill emanating from her chest when she saw that Allan seemed genuinely bereft that she had left his side.

"No, I don't," she pronounced assuredly. Shrugging nonchalantly, she continued, "Only incredibly witty, sarcastic, and handsome outlaws."

Allan raised his eyebrows as a shocked smile broke onto his face. Folding his arms across his chest, he asked, "Oh really?"

"Mhmm," she clarified. "A girl must keep to her set of standards, you know."

As she saw Allan begin to inch menacingly toward her, Danny apprehensively began retreating from his advance. "I'll give you a set of standards," he joked, exploding toward her and pinning her against the boulder that he had waited on top of for her earlier.

Allan quieted Danny's pealing laughter with a kiss and a smile. Seemingly reluctant, Allan released her and stepped back, reaching down to entwine his fingers with hers.

"You head on back to camp," he gestured. "I'll be there soon. I need to go and find Robin."

Danny froze as Allan's words hit her like a blow to her middle. As the world began to blur, she was barely able to discern Allan placing a kiss to her hand before he walked away. She fought hard to remain alert until Allan had his back turned and, defeated, she sank down the boulder as her knees gave out and she gave in to another flare of memory.

"_I need you to go and find Robin," her father said frantically, grasping her upper arms tightly._

_Danny was standing inside a maroon tent, lit by candles, with the man whom she recognized as her father. She could not perceive where she was or the time, but she could feel a sense of urgency and restlessness permeating the air._

"_But, Father," she pleaded, "I don't understand."_

"_Please," her father begged, holding up a cream-colored piece of parchment sealed with red wax. "I need you to deliver this to Robin of Locksley. __**No one**__ else, do you understand?"_

"_Of course, Father," she said, "but why must it be me?"_

"_You are the only person whom I can trust with this," he replied honestly, the conviction showing in his stare._

_Tears in her eyes, Danny whispered, "I don't want to leave you."_

"_And I don't want you to," her father said as he placed a hand to her cheek._

"_Then I won't," Danny said firmly._

"_You must!" her father ordered. _

_Danny dropped her eyes to the ground, avoiding her father's intense glare. Gently, she felt a gloved hand raise her chin to meet those eyes again. _

"_Do this for your King," her father said adamantly._

_Resolved, Danny straightened her posture, frowning at her father. "I will do this for __**you**__, Father," she replied strongly._

_Nodding and gazing at his daughter with pride, Danny's father pressed the letter into her hands, saying, "Deliver this __**only**__ to Robin of Locksley. You make sure that you place this directly into his hands alone. Ensure that he receives this message."_

_A lump forming in her throat, Danny said, "I understand, Father."_

"_I knew that you would," he smiled. "You are your father's daughter, after all."_

_Despite her tears, Danny's face broke into a smile at his praise. Her eyes watched as her father studied her face intently, his smile slowly fading as he cradled her face in his hand again. _

_Swallowing difficultly and his voice shaking with the emotion of his unshed tears, Danny's father said, "You must protect this with your very life. I am sorry for placing such a heavy burden on your shoulders." The tears began to fall from his eyes as he pulled his daughter into a tight, heart-felt embrace. _

_Overcome by her own emotions, Danny began to weep silently, knowing that she might never see her father again. Clutching him tightly, she promised, "I will not fail you, Father."_

_Feeling as though she would be never be able to leave him if she did not do it then, Danny released herself from his arms and strode purposefully toward the tent flap. Before she reached it, however, her father's voice made her turn._

"_Come home to me," he begged._

_Wiping the tears from her eyes, Danny forced a smile onto her face. "Always," she promised then she pushed back the tent flap and walked away from the man who loved her most._

When Danny was forced back to reality, her shoulders were heaving uncontrollably with loud, heart-wrenching sobs, large tears falling from her eyes in trails down her cheeks. She cried not only from the sheer emotion of the memory, but she cried for the father whom she had lost and the choice that she would soon have to make.

For Danny knew that her mind had decided. It had elected to recover what had been lost and she had to choose: her father or Allan. And she had to decide soon… before she lost them both.

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**So I threw in a little bit of a fight, but I hope that Danny fixed it! Oh my goodness, just how adorable is Allan? I mean seriously, guys, I'm not being funny at all...**

**What about that flashback? Where is that precious letter? Will she keep her promise to her father or stay with Allan? Stay tuned to find out!**


	9. Acknowledgement

**Sorry. I know it has been quite a while. That's all I have to say (until the end anyway). Here's a long one!**

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A twig snapped nearby, but Danny couldn't tear her gaze from the point in the distance upon which she was focusing. She stared into space, not yet having returned from that place where her memories collided with her waking consciousness. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her knees and her back kept connecting alternately with the sturdy rock behind her as she absentmindedly rocked back and forth in oblivion, barely aware of her surroundings.

As if she were hundreds of miles away, she felt the slight pressure of hands on her shoulders, attempting to quell her rocking, but it seemed to take hours for her to stop and return to her body. Shaking her head violently to dispel the cobwebs, Danny found her eyes staring into Allan's blue ones that were framed in a very worried face.

"Are you all right?" he asked concernedly as his eyes roamed over her face.

Eyes boring into Allan's, Danny silently shook her head, indicating that she was a far cry from being all right. Instantly, Danny could feel Allan's hands clench her shoulders more tightly and she was sure that he had done it unconsciously.

After waiting in vain for an answer, Allan asked, "What happened?"

She brushed his hands away and stood shakily. Without waiting for him, she began to walk back to camp saying, "I need to talk to Robin."

It was a few moments before Allan caught up to her and began to walk beside her. Unable to remain silent any longer, Allan asked another question, "So, why do you need to talk to Robin?"

Without even looking at him, Danny continued walking silently, wanting nothing more than for Allan to stop asking her questions. The longer that he went without pushing her for an explanation, the longer that she could deny that she would have to leave him soon.

She kept walking until she felt Allan reach for her hand, trying to entwine their fingers as they moved toward the camp. Instinctively, she moved her hand away from his, letting him believe that it was just a coincidence that she had escaped his grasp. He tried again, succeeding in capturing her cold hand, but, frustrated and upset, she extricated it quickly and then folded her arms across her chest. She knew that she was being unreasonable, but she was confused, battered, and utterly shaken, longing to be alone with her thoughts until she reached Robin.

She was so disconnected that she didn't realize Allan had stopped immediately after her deliberate rebuff of his innocent advances. Rubbing her forehead and sighing, she didn't stop moving until Allan leaped toward her, snagging her arm and turning her to face him, question and hurt evident in his eyes. Unable to curtail her temper, she glared at Allan, immediately feeling awful when Allan took a tentative step back from the intensity of her stare.

_Maybe it's better this way_, a voice in her mind whispered to her. _Maybe it's best that you begin to withdraw from his life now. Before either of you fall in too deep. Just walk away… while you still can._

Listening to that cold voice in her head, Danny turned silently and took three steps away from Allan before the voice of reason in her head retorted: _Fall in too deep? Just whom exactly do you think you're fooling? You were in too deep the moment that you first you tasted his lips!_

Realizing that this was her true voice, she turned immediately and fell into Allan's unsuspecting arms, tears in her eyes and whispering repeated apologies. He forgivingly wrapped her tightly in his solid and reassuring arms as he smoothed her hair and quieted her ramblings. Danny clung tightly to him, afraid to let him go, feeling his warmth seep into her fright-chilled bones, offering her the only relief since she had experienced her debilitating memory.

When she had calmed some, Allan leaned his head back and said, "Let's go find Robin, okay?"

Taking a deep breath, Danny nodded her assent then purposefully entwined the fingers of her left hand with his right in order to let him know that she was truly sorry for earlier. How could she have thought that she would be able stay away from this man?

As each step took them closer to the camp, the unease in Danny's belly began to grow, knowing that she would have to confront the memory and Robin. They crested the hill and descended into camp, finding everyone seated, holding a bowl of what looked like Much's porridge. Instantly contrite, Danny rushed over to where Much was ladling out a serving into a bowl and took the chore away from him, shooing him over to a seat so that he could finish his own breakfast.

Having no appetite, Danny stirred the concoction in the pot distractedly, feeling the questioning looks burning her back as the Merrymen wondered where she had been and why she had left. Knowing that it was time—and barely able to keep it inside any longer—Danny breathed Robin's name as she quickly spun to face all of her favorite men—and Djaq, of course.

Surprised, Robin lifted his head from his bowl, quickly swallowing a mouthful of his breakfast. Frowning slightly, he asked, "What is it, Danny?"

Nervously twisting her hands, Danny exhaled heavily before continuing, "Did I—" she broke off as she gathered her courage, "—did I ever deliver a letter to you?"

Confused, Robin asked, "A letter?" He shook his head, "No."

"Never?" she asked emotionally. "Are you sure?"

Robin nodded his head, "Quite sure."

Danny's shoulders slumped as she admitted her defeat, "Then I failed him." She sank to her knees in despair, bringing a hand to her face to wipe away her tears as they began to fall freely.

Robin knelt before her and tilted her chin up. "I can't believe that I failed him," Danny breathed, "He trusted me…" she wailed, "…and I _failed_ him. What have I done?" She deteriorated into sobs as her hands shakily grasped at Robin's shoulders.

Vaguely aware that Robin pulled her to her feet and set her down on a bench, Danny was lost in her memory as she recalled the confidence in her father's eyes as he entrusted her with the mission. She heard voices calling her name, but none broke through the mist until she heard Djaq's lilting accent calling her name, bringing her back to Sherwood Forest.

Her eyes focused on Djaq's brown ones as she determinedly caught Danny's eyes and held them. "I need you to take deep breaths," Djaq instructed Danny. "Just take deep breaths, now. In," Djaq inhaled deeply, illustrating her own orders, "…and out. In…and out." Danny followed Djaq's advice, calming slightly and continuing to breathe deeply in order to dispel her hysteria.

Djaq smiled. "That's good, Danny," she praised. "Now, did you have a memory?"

Danny nodded, unable to speak.

"Can you tell us about it?" Djaq inquired.

Frantically, Danny shook her head as her breathing began to quicken again when the hysteria and panic began to return. Djaq's fingers dug into Danny's shoulders as she ordered, "Just keep breathing. In and out. There you go."

Djaq looked around at the men, crowding around them, concern clearly written on each of their faces. Djaq turned to Allan, "Do you know about this memory?"

Blankly, Allan nodded, then shook his head to regain his alertness. "Last night," he began, "she opened the rucksack and found a box. It was empty."

"No," Danny whispered, six pairs of eyes turning back to her. "That's not the right one."

Allan knelt before her, placing a hand on her knee, "You had another memory?" he asked. Danny's response was a simple nod and Allan glanced up at Djaq who bent down before the redhead.

"I want to try something," she said softly. "May I?"

Uncertainly, Danny nodded.

"Okay," Djaq said. "I want you to think of something pleasant—something that makes you happy, can you do that?"

"I don't have—" Danny began.

"Yes, you do," Djaq interrupted. "Just think. It can be anything."

Closing her eyes, Danny sought for a pleasant memory, instantly remembering her and Allan's kiss by the stream bed the night before. She replayed each movement of his lips and hands on her, the feel of his body against hers….

"Danny?" Djaq's voice broke through her thoughts, "I want you to tell me what you see," Djaq asked insistently.

Danny shook her head without opening her eyes, "I can't."

Danny felt Djaq rest a hand on her shoulder. "Tell me what you see."

A blush heated Danny's cheeks as she opened her eyes to glare into Djaq's. "It's private," she growled in embarrassment, her eyes quickly flicking to Allan. Five pairs of eyes followed hers to see Allan rub the back of his neck awkwardly and then cross his arms across his chest.

"What?" he demanded, his eyes wide. "Like she said, it's private."

All eyes—except for Much's whose stayed attuned to Allan in disbelief—returned to Danny who thought that her face must surely be as red as her hair. Danny was inordinately grateful when Djaq cleared her throat and said, "All right, Danny, I want you to go back to that memory. Really focus on it."

Danny slipped back into the memory and did as she was told, but this time she concentrating her attention on Djaq's voice. "Pay attention to your surroundings. Explore your feelings of happiness, fix them in your memory. Can you do that?"

Danny hummed her success as she stored away her pleasure to be recalled later. Djaq's voice broke into her thoughts again. "Now, Danny, I want you to remember the man you were talking about earlier. Remember to keep breathing deeply as you search your mind for the man whom you said you failed. Can you find him?"

Danny felt her lungs expand and deflate with each breath as she took her mind back to that dark tent with her father.

"What do you see?" Djaq asked softly.

Danny took another deep breath and answered, "I'm in a dark tent. I can't tell if it's light outside or not." Danny cocked her head, "I see my father."

"Good," Djaq interjected. "What does he look like?"

"He's tall," Danny admitted, launching into a description. "He has light brown eyes and reddish-blonde hair. Clean-shaven. Handsome. He's looking at me so strangely."

"What does he say?" Djaq asked.

"He tells me that I have to deliver a letter," Danny replied calmly. "He says that I am the only one he can trust with it. It must go to Robin of Locksley—only to Robin. I am to personally deliver it into his hands alone. Watch him as he reads it." Danny paused, then divulged the most important part, "It has to do with the King."

"What?" Danny heard Robin splutter as he took a step forward.

"Father says that I must deliver it for my King," Danny elaborates, cocking her head in confusion. "It makes me angry when he tells me this. He says it to persuade me…as if he thinks I wouldn't have just done it for him…just because he asked me to." She sighed. "He hands me the letter. I clutch it in my fist and I start to walk away."

"Then what happens?" Djaq probed.

Danny's face crumpled as tears prickled at her closed eyes. "He begs me to come home. He begs me to come home to him." Danny opened her eyes to search out Allan's blue eyes, "I promise him that I always will." Her eyes traveled to Robin, "That's all I remember. I'm sorry."

"No," Djaq said. "No, that was good."

Danny took another few deep breaths. Surprised, she frowned, "You're right. I do feel much better. It was easier to remember that way."

Djaq shrugged. "My father used to say that his patients who had suffered as you have needed to feel calm and safe when they were faced with a memory. He told me to put myself in their place and think how terrified I would be if I was remembering things from a past life." She paused, "What was this other memory you had?"

Danny met Allan's eyes, whose face was tense—no doubt from the shock of her last memory. She rubbed her forehead with her hand, needing to escape into her mind and decide what she wanted to do next. She glanced back up at Allan, asking, "Would you tell them about it, please?"

He frowned slightly in concern, but then he nodded and launched into a description of when they had found the mysteriously empty box and the ensuing memory. She tuned him out as she delved into her own thoughts, actively pursuing that suppressed woman inside of her, focusing upon her and deciphering what she felt.

Panic. The woman inside her head was having intense feelings of panic and hysteria about the letter. Panic that was beginning to seep into Danny and fray her nerves.

She thought back hard on the letter that her father had handed to her, trying to remember where she had hidden it since she so obviously had not succeeded in delivering it to Robin. Her brow furrowed as she glimpsed the beginning of an idea.

Everyone was facing Allan as he recounted the memory of the ring and her father from the previous night. All seemed to be speechless, probably because Allan had most likely told them about the danger she had been in…and which she had conveniently kept from them. They looked perplexed and not sure what conclusions to reach from this new information. Danny, however, had something different on her mind.

"Djaq," Danny called out, making her spin back toward her.

"Yes?" she asked pleasantly.

"Do you think—" she began, "well, would it be possible for you to help me remember other things? Things that I haven't already remembered, I mean," she clarified.

Djaq shrugged, saying, "That is the idea. I don't know if it would work, though." Seeing Danny's confusion, she continued, "It's been almost two weeks since your accident and you've only experienced a few brief flashes of memory. I feel like it might be best for you to remember in your own time. Without any force or active pursuit."

Danny nodded, understanding. "If we force it, though," she began to ask, "Would there be any risks? Any harm?"

Djaq exhaled heavily. "No," she conceded, "but I don't know how successful we would be. Your mind seems stubbornly locked. It might not let us in until it's ready."

"That's how I feel," Danny said with a rueful smile. She began to clarify, "You make it seem like I am two people: my mind and my body." Danny nodded, fully aware that everyone in the camp was watching her intently. "I feel like there are two different people fighting within me…and I don't know which one I truly am." She looked Djaq in the eyes, pleading, "This other person inside of me is frantic. She's excessively worried about something to do with that letter. I have to find it," she finished.

After a moment, Djaq acquiesced. "Go back to that pleasant memory," she ordered. "Pass through it. Relive it. Move on to other happy memories. Focus on the peace and contentment you feel."

Danny closed her eyes, shutting out the Merrymen, only to reunite with Allan in her memories while Djaq's voice directed her.

"Go back to when your father gave you the letter," she said. "Remember how it feels, how heavy it is…the design of the seal. You leave the tent," Djaq paused, "Where do you take it?"

Seamlessly, Danny's memory flowed from listening to Allan moan mere moments ago to her hands frantically grasping at the bark of a rough tree as she leaned against it, stopping herself from her dead sprint.

_Danny could see a small hut at the base of the hill. She had thought that she was still hours away from the next town and she hadn't been sure that she could make it. She was desperately tired and her lungs strained for air as she took a short rest._

_It seemed as if she had gained some ground on the men who had so easily found her. How had they known where she would be? It was impossible that they had found her so quickly!_

_Knowing that she couldn't afford to stop, Danny stumbled down the hill on wobbly legs, holding up the long skirts of the emerald dress she was wearing. Her fingers gingerly clutched the soft fabric. _Was that silk?_ Danny wondered. _Why was she wearing silk?

_Dropping her skirts, Danny smoothed the fabric down with her hands and wrapped herself up in her black travel cloak. She raised a fist to knock on the door of the hut._

Suddenly, Danny found herself back in Sherwood instead of in front of that small hut with the faintly smoking chimney. She was looking into Djaq's eyes, but Much, Robin, Will, Little John, and Allan were all staring at her just as intently.

"What happened next?" Much asked when the silence stretched on for too long.

"I don't know," Danny answered. "I came back here for some reason."

"Okay," Djaq said, "You told us that you found a hut and you knocked on the door…" she trailed off. "Go back to that hut, Danny. Close your eyes and picture that hill. Feel the silk in your fingers. Smooth your dress just as you knock on the door…"

_The door opened cautiously and a small freckled face appeared in the crack._

"_Wow," the little boy said, eyes wide. He couldn't have been more than seven or eight years old with dirt smudged on his cheek and grass stains on his knees. "Who are you?" he asked, then continued before Danny could answer, "Because I know pretty much everyone in town and no one around here has a dress as fancy as yours or hair so pretty." He gestured at the ground where her black cloak had not fully managed to hide her clearly expensive clothing and, damn, she had forgotten to raise her hood, too! _

_How could she have been so foolish? She would give anything to be wearing her breeches and travel clothes right now, but she had thought it would be best to begin her journey in these clothes to try and avoid attention. Now, however, it seemed that all she was doing was attracting it and she desperately wanted to avoid that. Her life depended on her ability to blend into her surroundings, to seem as if she belonged among these peasants._

"_Is your mother at home?" Danny asked the child with a smile. _

"_She's out in the garden," the boy answered. _

"_May we go and see her?" Danny asked him, bending down slightly to look him in the eyes. _

"_Come on," he said and he bolted out the door past her, grabbing the edge of her black cloak and leading her around the house. The boy ran quickly and Danny had to jog to keep up, her black cloak billowing behind her, negating any effort she exerted to hide her finery. _

_The boy led her behind the house, where Danny saw a woman bent down in among the greens of a small, but lush, garden. _

"_Mother!" the boy called. "Mother, come and see who is here."_

_The woman raised her head questioningly, quickly jumping to her feet as she saw that her son had indeed brought a visitor to meet her. Danny watched as the woman's eyes roved over her dress and hair and Danny did the only thing that she could. She straightened her posture and morphed her face into a noble expression, one that she was so familiar making. She clasped her hands in front of her and slightly raised her chin, as if she thought herself to be above the family living in this home._

_It was complete nonsense, of course. Danny always felt like an imposter when she reminded herself to be the noblewoman that she was expected to be. In actuality, she felt most at home in her travel cloak and worn dresses. She longed to be able to tend to a garden that was all her own. _

_Danny snapped her mind back to the woman before her who approached her quickly. With a slight curtsy, she woman acknowledged her, "Ma'am," she said. _

_Danny nodded her head at the woman. "Good evening," she greeted._

"_What can I do for you?" the woman asked apprehensively. "You look like you're an awful long way from home."_

"_Yes, quite far, indeed," Danny replied. Sighing, she continued, "My name is—"_

Once again, Danny found herself back in Sherwood, no name on the tip of her tongue. She instinctively knew that she had given that woman a false name.

"I'm sorry," Danny apologized, looking at the ground. "I don't know why I keep coming back or even why I keep focusing on that memory. It doesn't seem to have anything to do with that letter."

Djaq shook her head. "No," she said, "it is a good sign that you are remembering at all. Maybe your mind isn't as locked as I thought it was. It just seems to need a little prompting."

No one was looking at her, Danny realized suddenly. Not even Allan. Djaq seemed reluctant to meet her gaze.

Licking her lips and glancing around at each of them, Danny asked, "What?"

Robin cleared his throat and said, "It's just odd, is all. You were telling us everything that you saw…everything that you thought."

"And that's it?" Danny asked skeptically. "That's why none of you are looking at me?" She paused, but they didn't answer her. They just shared pointed looks between them.

Finally, Robin spoke again. "You were a noble," he said slowly.

"No I wasn't," Danny refuted instantly. "It was an act. I was just pretending." She could see that they didn't believe her. She frowned, desperate to make them understand her, to banish those expressions from their faces that betrayed their disbelief. "I had to remind myself that I was acting. It wasn't true," she said firmly.

She turned to Djaq, her gaze defiant. "I'm going back," she said. "I'll prove it."

She closed her eyes tightly and thought about the hut, the feeling of being exposed, and the smell of the lush grass. Her mind played over the memory, focusing single-mindedly on getting back to that point so that she could prove to them that it was an act. She was upset, the blood pulsing behind her eyelids, and no matter what she did, she couldn't put aside the anger.

She finally opened her eyes when it became apparent to her that she had failed. She knew that she wasn't calm enough to relive the past, but it nagged at her. Why had this memory been so important? What did it have to do with the letter?

Unable to stomach the looks that they were all giving her, Danny jumped up and pushed past them with a disapproving and hurt glance to Allan, stalking into the forest.

As she stomped in no particular direction, she thought back on the memory and doubt began to plague her. Had she been from a noble family? She remembered thinking that she had to consciously remind herself to be pretentious and if she had been from a noble family, it would have been instinctual…wouldn't it?

The proof that she was more than she seemed began to pile up and as it grew, it seemed more and more incontrovertible. She thought back on her own personality, comparing it to Robin's men. Undoubtedly, her vocabulary and vernacular were more sophisticated, her posture more rigid, even her personal hygiene pointed to the fact that she was not some ordinary peasant. She knew that she had been educated, but mostly, there was this niggling sentiment in the back of her mind that told her that she felt out of place among the outlaws.

Sure, she loved them. And, yes, she respected them. The problem was that she felt out of place, as if there were something else that she had been meant to be.

Danny collapsed onto the ground as she stopped fighting with herself. The truth was clear, but it only left her with more questions.

Why wasn't anyone looking for her? Why had she been disguised as a peasant? Why had she felt so odd about tapping into her nobility at the hut?

These questions haunted her, but the question that was at the forefront of her mind was thus: what did this mean for her and Allan?

The silence was deafening.

* * *

**Hey, there. So good news first, I think. My finals-and therefore my semester-are done so I can now return to the land of the living! **

**All right, time for the bad news. Now, that my semester is over, I am going home for a few weeks, which means that I can't upload any new chapters. I will be writing during that time though so I should have plenty of goodies for you guys when I get back!**

**Thirdly, I hate to be that person, but I'm going to do it. I am going to shamelessly beg for reviews. I really thought that I would get some after that last chapter, but I was wrong. I have never shown my writing to anyone, so I have never received any constructive criticism and I'm sure that I need some work. Is there something that I do that annoys you? Please, let me know.**

**Lastly, HAPPY HOLIDAYS! **


	10. Unexpected Advice and Betrayals

**All right, I'm back! I'm wicked excited to get back to the world of Danny and Allan and I hope that you are equally as excited to find out what is next in store for them. I just want to take a second to say WOW THIS STORY HAS HIT THE DOUBLE DIGITS! (slightly shocked, if you couldn't tell) This next chapter is a long one, so enjoy it!**

**It's been quite a while, so I thought that I would just give a brief summary of what happened up to the last time I updated:**

_**Danny and Allan took their friendship to the next level with some pretty intense kisses, but they were interrupted by several of Danny's memories. One showed Danny speaking with her father about delivering a letter to Robin Hood by order of the King, but Danny failed in that mission and now has no idea where the letter could be. She experienced another memory that led her to a mysterious jewelry box that is suspiciously empty. Lastly, with some help from Djaq, Danny was able to recount a memory to the gang that revealed that she was of noble birth. Unable to handle the truth, Danny ran out of the camp, casting a hurt glance at Allan who wasn't supportive for the first time. **_

**And now we continue...**

* * *

**Chapter 10: Unexpected Advice and Betrayals**

Allan watched Danny stomp out of the camp in frustration, trying to ignore the pangs of guilt and hurt shooting through him after having seen the glance of disappointment that she had thrown his way. He wanted to comfort her; he wanted to follow her; he wanted to tell her that it was all a misunderstanding, but he could not.

She had said it herself just a few nights before.

"_We'll be torn apart,"_ she had said, indicating what would happen if she were to remember her past. It seemed as if she were right. If she were truly born of a noble family, then there was no way that he could hold any claim to her heart. He was only an outlaw, after all.

Suddenly feeling claustrophobic as he realized that everyone in the camp was staring at him, Allan decided that he had to get away. He grabbed his cloak and fastened it at his throat, drawing the hood up as he also stalked out of the camp albeit in a different direction than the one Danny had taken.

He knew that it wasn't Danny's fault. He also knew that she must be feeling so lost and confused at the moment, but Allan's own hurt and heartache took precedence. He couldn't help her if he didn't help himself first. The problem was this, however: he didn't know if he _could_ help himself.

He had fallen for her. Hard and fast.

Once, before the whole business with Gisbourne, Allan had allowed himself to visualize his future if the king ever returned and put England to right again. He had pictured himself living a quiet life of ease—no more running—and he had the perfect woman by his side. A woman who appreciated his humor and gave it right back, a strong woman with a defiant spirit, and, most importantly, a woman with whom he could not get his fill, both intellectually and physically.

Previously, that woman had never had a face, but now, not only did she have a face more beautiful than he could ever have imagined, but she had name as well: Danny. Just the thought of her warmed his heart, making the corners of his lips turn upwards into the hint of a smile, and, when he thought about their few moments of intimacy…

He had never shared kisses as electrifying, satisfying, or frustrating as the ones in which he and Danny had partaken. He had been with other women, several in fact, but none meant remotely as much to him as that redheaded woman. Even now, he couldn't stop replaying the memories of their too few encounters. The recollection of her body pressed so tightly against his, her feminine curves molding against him, stirring him…her soft moans as he stroked her body and the taste of her mouth were imprinted on his very nerve endings.

Yes. He was sure that he would never tire of Danny because, while she was indeed the most beautiful woman that Allan had ever seen, she was also his perfect match in every other way. They thought alike, they enjoyed each other's company, and they were also comfortable sitting in silence together; it wasn't awkward or odd as it was with most other people.

_But if she were a noble…_

Allan's heart was slowly breaking. If she was a noble and she remembered her whole past, then how could she want him? A woman as amazing as Danny—who could have her pick of a partner from the entire country—why, oh _why_, would she choose an outlaw with nothing to offer her besides a life in the shadows?

* * *

Danny sat upon the soft ground, her legs tucked up underneath her, staring blankly into the distance. She was not what she seemed to be. She knew this now.

She heard a branch snap behind her and figured that Allan must have finally caught up with her, but she couldn't bear to look into his eyes, eyes that had known before she had, eyes that had accepted the truth before she could.

"Allan," she sighed, "I just want to be alone right now. Please."

"Oh," she heard a deep voice reply. A voice that was most definitely not Allan's. "Well, I'll just leave you be, then."

Danny whipped her head around and was shocked to see that it was not Allan who had followed her, but that it was Little John. He turned and, shouldering his staff, he began to stride back to camp with long steps.

Danny spun and knelt on her knees, "Wait!" she called after him.

John stopped and turned back to her, eyes flicking awkwardly from her to the ground and back again. Danny stood and brushed her knees off, clasping her hands in front of her, and then she walked up to Little John, stopping just shy of him.

She placed a hand on his arm and smiled gratefully up into his face. "Thank you for coming," she said, barely able to keep it together as tears sprang to her eyes.

The sight of this bear of a man before her made Danny's heart swell with appreciation for the men who had taken her in when she had nowhere else to turn. Little John had always been kind to her, but he was certainly the most quiet of the group. They had all accepted and welcomed her, but there had still been a clear barrier between them: she was a stranger. Knowing that, in spite of this, Little John had sought her out, clearly to comfort her, caused a lump in Danny's throat. While she had thought that she could be strong and not give in to her emotions, she was unable to stem the flood of her tears in the presence of Little John.

She jumped at him, wrapping her arms around his neck as she cried into his shoulder, stammering out the conclusions that she had reached. Surprising her once again, Little John did not hesitate, but wrapped his strong arms gently around her and patted her hair and back, allowing her to cry her tears away. He quietly shushed her and told her that it would all be okay and that she wasn't alone because she had Robin and the rest of the Merrymen. This unofficial initiation into their band of outlaws only served to make Danny sob harder because she couldn't stop the thought that, had circumstances been different and had she entered Sherwood wearing her fancy clothes, the band of misfits would have robbed her instead of welcomed her.

When the deluge of tears came to an end, she released her hold on John and sank back onto her own feet. She wiped at her cheeks and smiled embarrassedly, "I'm sorry," she apologized. "I seem to be incredibly emotional lately."

"It's not your fault," Little John replied. "You've had a tough few days."

Danny laughed humorlessly.

"But…" Little John continued cautiously, his eyebrows raised, "I expect that they've also been pretty good?"

Exhaling softly, Danny nodded. She sat on the ground and was pleased to see that John followed suit, resting himself just a few feet away and placing his staff on the ground beside him.

It was silent while Danny tried to organize her thoughts and find a place to begin speaking with John. She felt the need to open up to someone and she knew that, while she truly cared deeply for Allan, she couldn't be completely honest with him about everything. He was, after all, one of her biggest dilemmas.

As she was contemplating, John asked her a question: "What worries you more? The fact that you don't remember or that you are remembering?"

Shocked, Danny reflected on her options, not having thought of that question before. "I suppose," she began, "it's that I am remembering. If I had never experienced one of my previous memories, I would have been content to just live as I am now."

"You wouldn't have wondered what you left behind?" John questioned.

Blinking, Danny replied amenably, "Yes, I suppose that I would have. I would have done everything in my power to find the truth."

"So why does it bother you to remember?" John prompted.

"Because I don't have any answers," Danny gushed. "I thought that as time went on, I would find answers to all of my questions, you know? I thought that I would know where I came from, what I was doing, but…I still don't even know what my name is, Little John!" Danny quieted and continued, shaking her head, "Each day only brings me more questions. _Never_ any answers. I've tried to live my life as Danny, but how can I go forward when I don't know where I've been? Yet I can't just abandon Danny, because then who would I be? I'm stuck, John. I can't go forward and I can't go back."

"Which way do you want to go?" John asked softly.

Pensively, Danny thought aloud, "The more I learn about who I used to be, I get the feeling that I wasn't happy. I didn't like the way that my life was going and I feel as if I were stuck even then. That I was being herded through my own life, not being allowed to make my own choices. However, I'm just as stuck now. I'm haunted by who I used to be." Danny paused to rub her forehead and sigh, "If it were possible…If only…There must be some way to combine the two. I don't want to go forward or back. I want things from this life to be combined with my old one."

Little John raised an eyebrow and asked, "Allan?"

Danny smiled, "Among other things."

"Like?"

"You," Danny replied, beginning to make a list. "Robin. Will, Djaq…even Much. What you do for those who are less fortunate. The way you protect England and her people when her king is absent." Danny smiled at a now blushing John. "Those are the things that I wish the old me could know."

The impossibility of that wish struck Danny, deflating any cheerfulness Little John had brought her. Danny and whoever she used to be seemed to be polar opposites. What she wanted as Danny was probably the opposite of what her alter ego wanted. And she feared that that included Allan.

Little John must have seen her despair appear on her face because he began to speak. "You know," he started, fiddling with the grass underneath him, "I, too, have been stuck between two impossible choices."

Danny glanced up at Little John, paying close attention to his every word.

Little John nodded. "Before I came to live in Sherwood, I had a good life. A wife who loved me and I loved her. She was pregnant with our first child when the Sheriff's men came for me."

Danny's eyes widened, but she stayed quiet as John continued, now staring Danny in the eye as he made his point, "I made a choice. The wrong one. I chose to leave my wife and my son and not a day goes by that I don't regret that choice I made. I should have found a way to stay with them."

"Didn't you have the chance to right that wrong, John?" Danny asked warily.

Little John nodded and looked down, clearing his throat. "But they had moved on, Danny. I was too late. I lost my chance."

Danny closed her eyes, still feeling lost. She felt Little John clasp her hand in his large one and opened her eyes.

"Don't make the wrong choice, Danny," Little John said forcefully. "If you find someone that you love and who loves you the same…don't let them go. Don't let the law, a misunderstanding, or someone else take them away from you."

"You mean like the other Danny?" she clarified.

"I mean anybody who tries to come between you and that person. So yes, if that person is you, don't give in to her. Be strong, be the Danny that I know. _Her_, I like."

Danny smiled and squeezed his hand. "Thanks, John."

John smiled and heaved himself to his feet, pulling Danny up with him. "I know that things are unclear right now, but I don't think that whoever you were is as evil as you make her out to be. Remember, you don't have all the missing pieces yet. It's still too early to see the big picture."

Danny nodded, although she still felt skeptical.

Little John smiled at her one last time before turning to head back to camp. He took a few steps before he spun around to impart one last nugget of wisdom. "You're not the only person being haunted by what you don't know," John said with a little frown. "A person can only be a rock for so long before he needs to be reassured."

John stared at Danny for a moment just to be sure that she understood what he meant, and then he continued walking back to camp.

Danny did understand what Little John meant. She suddenly became aware of how Allan had always been there for her, but who had been there for Allan? No one.

Danny squared her shoulders and raised her chin defiantly. John was right. She had to be strong and fight for what she wanted, and, right now, she was going to fight for and comfort the man with whom she was falling in love. She only hoped that he shared her feelings enough to embark with her upon the rocky journey that would surely ensue.

* * *

Danny wasn't positive, but she was pretty sure that she sprinted back to camp. At the very least, she walked quite a bit faster than usual because she was out of breath as she stumbled into the camp. Dusk was just beginning to fall and Much had started the campfire while all the Merrymen were resting after their day.

She must have looked as harried as she felt because they all jumped up at the sight of her, with Little John as the exception. She glanced quickly around the camp and noticed Allan's absence, though she had not truly expected to find him sitting here quietly as if their world hadn't tilted.

"Where…" she panted, "…is…Allan…?"

Will pointed in a direction away from the camp. "He left," he spoke. "Right after you did."

"Where would he go?" she asked.

"Well, usually," Will shrugged, "if he was in a bother, he would head into town to blow off some steam. Pull a few tricks in the tavern."

Danny froze. "Town?" she repeated. "As in…Nottingham town?"

Will nodded and Danny was incredulous. That was extremely dangerous! _Especially_ after Allan had been seen as Gisbourne's right hand man! If something happened to him, she would never forgive herself. It was her revelation that had caused him the need to "blow off steam", after all.

Her mind made up, Danny lunged toward her black cloak. She hastily pulled it on and fastened it at her throat, drawing the hood up to cover her hair and face. Before the eyes of the Merrymen, Danny was transformed into a shadow with a purpose, driven as they had never seen her before.

Before she turned to leave, she pointed at the Merrymen. "Don't you dare follow me," she growled and she silently sprinted into the forest, heading in the direction of Nottingham.

* * *

Danny's fear grew exponentially as she neared the border of the forest. It had been two weeks since she had left the shelter of the trees, not even leaving to join the boys for their drop-offs when they begged her to go.

For two weeks, Danny had felt utterly safe. She had no worries about the men who had been following her, but, as she prepared to cross the threshold, the worry returned like a knot in her middle. That knot, however, was not nearly as large as the one created by her worry for Allan. Was this what it meant to fall in love? Was this unending worry and concern going to be her constant companion?

It was dark by the time that Danny reached the walls of Nottingham. The gates were closed, as she knew they would be, but there were two guards standing before them as sentries. Instinctively, Danny lowered her hood and rearranged her hair, pinching her cheeks to give them some color.

She sidled up to the guards and gave them her sweetest, prettiest, sheepish smile. "I wonder if you could help me," she purred.

The guards simply looked at each other with small smiles.

Taking that as encouragement, Danny continued, "My brother came into town this afternoon and he hasn't come home yet. I'm just worried that he's gone and spent all his money in the tavern." Danny stepped closer and laid a hand on one of their arms, gazing helplessly up into his face. "Would you kindly let me go and fetch him? It would only take me a few minutes and then you could let us back out and we'll be on our way." Danny saw that the guards were still uncertain about what to do, so Danny leaned over and placed a hand on the other guard's arm, shooting him an innocent glance. "I would really appreciate it," she said softly.

The guards shared another look and then smiled broadly down at Danny. "All right," one said, "but just this once and make sure you and your brother are back at this gate soon."

"Of course," Danny made herself gush and look thankful.

She felt one of the guards place a hand at the small of her back and guide her to the gate as it opened. Although she wanted to sigh in relief as she stepped through the gate and away from the guards, Danny made herself walk slowly. She turned after a few steps and waved to the guard still watching her and she whispered, "I'll be right back." The guard nodded and the gate was closed.

Danny had done it. She had actually gotten inside! Now she just had to find Allan and get back to the gate before the guards changed their minds.

Which way was the tavern? Having an idea, Danny listened closely and could soon hear the raucous laughter and shouts from men who were so clearly occupying a tavern. Following the trail, Danny winded her way through streets, glancing curiously around the town as she did.

Light was pouring from the building before her, as was the noise. Praying that Allan was inside, Danny pulled her hood to cover her face and stepped up to the door. She pushed it open and slipped through the doorway, shocked at the sight with which she was greeted.

Stunned, she began meandering between the drunken and debauched men, scanning the room for any sign of Allan. The room smelled appallingly like ale and Danny coughed trying to breathe through the smoke and stench of the tavern. _How could anyone willingly spend their time here?_ she wondered.

She dodged a man drunkenly weaving his way toward a room in the back, causing her to turn in a new direction and that was when she saw him. That was when her blood ran cold.

Allan was seated at a table near the edge of the room, sitting across from a man and performing his illustrious trick with the three cups. There was a large group of onlookers around him, cheering and jeering alternately, but that wasn't what made Danny freeze. It wasn't even the fact that Allan was so blatantly out in the open without a disguise that made Danny want to bolt from the building.

No. The thing, which made Danny feel so torn between wanting to hit him and run away, was the woman that was draped off his body. The scantily clad barmaid that ran her fingers through his hair and kissed his cheek and neck. The woman that even now perched herself upon his lap and whose ministrations Allan did not try to dissuade. Instead, he actually _smiled_ at her!

Unaware that she was doing so, Danny took several steps forward, setting in motion events that resulted in chaos. She accidentally collided with a severely inebriated man, who fell and knocked over a table upon which several unsavory looking men were playing cards.

At the loud noises, several pairs of eyes turned to Danny who suddenly realized that the falling man had also succeeded in removing the hood from her face. Danny stood before the eerily quiet men in the tavern, unable to do anything. The looks from the men that she was subjected to made her squirm and feel disgusted, like they thought that she was something cheap there for their pleasure alone.

Indignant, Danny unwittingly called up her nobility like she had in her memory and straightened her posture, effectively looking down upon everyone in the tavern. Tapping into her courage, Danny rested her eyes upon Allan who had jumped up from his seat, a look of pure shock on his face and the barmaid's arm still wrapped around his chest.

Danny glared at him and shook her head almost imperceptibly before she pushed her way between the still dazed men in the tavern, heading for the door, fresh air, and freedom. Her relief at reaching the door, however, was miniscule compared to the hurt and confusion that now took the place of the worry she had foolishly felt earlier.

How could she have been so astonishingly _thick_? How could she have ever thought that Allan felt anything for her besides lust and pity? She should have known…he was a no-good outlaw and traitor, after all.

Danny stomped away from the tavern, working herself into an even greater and righteous rage, and she managed to turn the corner before she heard Allan calling her name. She was so angry that she couldn't decide if she wanted to run or wait for him to catch up so that she could give him a piece of her mind.

In the end, she simply continued walking, the blood pulsing hotly within her veins, fueling her fire. She was so tightly coiled that when she felt a hand snake around her arm to slow her, she moved quickly and twisted the attacker's arm behind his back, almost to the breaking point.

A yelp brought Danny back to her senses and she realized that she had Allan in a tight hold that she couldn't remember telling her body to execute. Shocked, Danny quickly released Allan, but resumed her stalking away from him and the tavern, but he simply caught up to her.

He jogged around until he was in front of her. "Danny," he begged. "Danny, please. Just stop. _Stop_, Danny." He brought a hand up and placed it on her chest, forcefully stopping her.

"_Don't_," she growled as she slapped his hand away, "you dare touch me."

Danny realized in that moment that she was the type of person who didn't get loud when they were angry, but instead became frighteningly quiet. The menace in her voice and look of pure disdain on her face pushed Allan back two steps, a hurt look on his face. The _nerve_ of him!

Forcing herself to calm down minutely, Danny walked more slowly and less passionately, right past Allan without a side-glance. She reached the end of the block before she reached a conclusion and called a truce out of necessity.

She rotated on her heel, swallowed her pride and asked, "Are you coming or not?"

Allan hadn't moved since her order, but he looked at her with such confusion that his question wasn't warranted.

"I can't leave without you," she explained. "I told the guards that I would be back with my brother. They won't let me leave alone. So are you coming or not?"

Allan walked dejectedly toward her, but Danny didn't wait for him to catch up before continuing to walk to the gate. Allan soon caught up with her and she was grateful that he didn't try to say anything to her because she didn't want to hear his pathetic excuses until they were out of Nottingham safely.

The gate soon came into view and Danny turned to Allan. "Remember," she cautioned, "I've been sent to fetch you, my brother, home from the tavern. Act accordingly."

She turned away from him before she could see his nod and knocked on the gate. Almost immediately, it creaked open, revealing the guards from just a few minutes ago. Danny wrapped her arms around Allan's torso as if she were holding him up and smiled warmly at the guards.

"Hello, again," she laughed as the guard stepped back to allow her to lead Allan, who was stumbling along quite convincingly, through. Then again, it was quite possible that it wasn't completely an act.

"Did you find him all right?" the guard asked her.

"Oh, yes sir," she confirmed. "He's just fine. He simply gets a little foolish when he drinks." She leaned conspiratorially over to the guard and said quietly, "He can't hold his ale, you see."

The guard laughed and asked, "Are you going to be able to get him home by yourself?"

"It's not the first time that I've done this," she confided to the guard in a whisper. "We'll be all right. Thank you so much for your help."

Danny turned to walk Allan across the short bridge when the guard called out to her, "Maybe I'll see you again soon?"

Danny looked back and smiled. "Maybe," she said and resumed leading Allan away.

When they had gone some ways, Allan began to whisper angrily, "What was—?" but Danny cut him off. "Not here," she whispered.

When she was certain that they were out of the guards' range, Danny disgustedly dropped her arms from around Allan's chest and put three feet of distance between them.

"You mind telling me what the _bloody_ hell that was all about?" Allan shouted.

Danny rolled her eyes and kept walking back to Sherwood Forest.

"Oy!" Allan yelled at her. "What was that? What exactly did you tell that guard?"

"It doesn't matter," Danny replied nonchalantly over her shoulder.

Allan ran up to her and blocked her path, glaring down at her. "It doesn't matter?" he repeated with a frown on his face and emotion coloring his voice. "Here's some news for you, when the girl that I care about flirts with another man, trust me, _it matters_."

Danny went very still. She gritted her teeth and looked up at Allan from under a brow furrowed with intense fury. Her voice shaking, Danny was so quiet that she was almost whispering, but she managed to say, "You have…_no_ hold…over me anymore."

Allan's eyes widened in hurt, all rage disappearing from his face. "I don't believe you," he said, shaking his head.

Danny's eyes showed her surprise that Allan had called her bluff, but her pride wouldn't allow her to back down. She raised her hands and shoved at his chest, knocking him back a step.

"Well _I,_" she advanced on him, "don't appreciate," she shoved him again, "the man that _I_ care about," another shove, "_cavorting_ with another woman!" she shoved him a final time for emphasis.

"I wasn't _cavorting_ with anyone!" Allan yelled back.

"Oh really?" Danny replied, crossing her arms and cocking her head. "What would you call it, then?"

"That's the woman's job, Danny," Allan answered. "She entertains the men. Nothing happened."

"It didn't look like 'nothing'," Danny said contemptibly.

Allan moved toward her and stopped when he was inches away from her. He looked down into her face and his expression changed from one of intent study to one of amused surprise. He looked as if he had suddenly deduced something from her face that thoroughly pleased him.

Unbelievably, he let out a soft, short chuckle. "You're jealous," he whispered.

"No, I'm not," Danny retorted quickly. "I'm _furious_, Allan."

Allan chuckled again, shaking his head. "Jealous," he repeated. "Don't worry though, love, I like it."

"I am _not_ jealous," Danny said vehemently. "Why would I ever be jealous of _her_?"

Allan licked his lips and leaned closer to Danny with a sparkle in his eye. Danny's body revolted against her mind. Even though she told herself to be angry with Allan, she couldn't bring her body to stop reacting to his proximity. Her blood hummed now, not with fury, but with passion and her lips burned to meet his recently wetted lips with a smoldering kiss. Her eyes gazed into Allan's as he took a breath to whisper, "Because you love me."

Allan twined a hand in her hair and pulled her to him, carefully crushing his warm lips against her own, territorially staking a claim to her mouth with his tongue. Despite her anger, Danny couldn't resist his advances and she clung to his body as she returned his passion. She let the kiss continue for several delicious moments before the words he whispered registered in her brain. _Because you love me_, he had said. The unmitigated gall!

She pushed on his chest with both hands, abruptly ending their embrace. Without any conscious thought, Danny drew back a fist and punched him squarely on the jaw. Shocked and dazed from the intensity of the punch, Allan fell to the ground.

Danny leaned over him, her anger renewed. "Whatever I may have felt for you," she sneered, "is gone."

She straightened and began walking back to Sherwood again, leaving Allan in the dust behind her.

* * *

**Okay, I don't know about you guys, but I love this chapter. Sure, Little John acts slightly out of character, but I like that he now has some depth (thanks for that idea _robinhood447_).**

**Thanks to everyone else who reviewed as well. They are the fuel that keeps me writing even when I should be doing something else!**


	11. So Close

**Hey guys. So I suppose that this chapter should be rated M due to a little love scene (my first, so don't be too harsh!). For those not comfortable with those things, I have underlined, bolded, and used all caps to mark the beginning and end of the romantic sequence (example: **DANNY**)**

**Hope you like it!**

* * *

**Chapter 11: So Close**

Once Danny and Allan had reached the border of Sherwood—Allan walking along silently beside her, carefully massaging the left side of his face—she stopped and faced him.

She drew her hood up to cover her brilliant curls and hide her tortured eyes. It had been an emotionally draining journey for Danny. She had left Sherwood earlier that evening to comfort Allan, to convince him that they could overcome the new obstacle that her nobility created, but now she was returning in uncertainty and doubt. She was hurt and angry with him—and she was justified in feeling both—but she felt a modicum of resentment toward herself as well.

She was in turmoil. She wanted to punch Allan again, but she also wanted to kiss his cheek and take away the sting from the previous one. She wanted to apologize to him for her outburst and jealousy, but she also wanted him to acknowledge that he understood her reasons. He _had_ been furious when he saw her flirt with that guard, after all, and what she had done was not nearly in the same caliber as what he had! That barmaid had kissed the smooth skin of his neck in a way that Danny had not yet been able to…in a way that she so yearned to….

The worst part though was the confusion and uncertainty about the days ahead—even just the next few hours ahead. She knew that she could forgive Allan in time—her resolve was weakening already—but she wasn't convinced that it was the correct thing to do. Maybe this past night had been a sign. Maybe their growing feelings weren't strong enough and never would be. Maybe she was meant to use this argument as an excuse to end what they were experiencing before it went any further, before he completely broke her heart.

She needed to get away. She couldn't think straight with him standing so close to her…his body throwing off such tempting warmth—and promising her so much more heat…

So she retreated behind the folds and shadows of her cloak and made herself look stronger and sterner than she actually felt. "Don't follow me," she ordered and then she began to back into the darkness of the trees.

Allan took a step toward her, reaching a hand out, "Wait," he pleaded, his expression tortured as if he finally understood what he had done. "We need to talk about this."

Danny didn't say anything. She simply turned away from him and continued slinking into the forest.

"Danny!" he begged and she had to stop. He hadn't yelled to her. He hadn't even raised his voice a decibel. Instead, he spoke normally, but the raw emotion in his shaking voice called to her reluctantly retreating limbs, halting them. There was an edge of panic in his voice and enough sorrow that Danny could almost hear the tears forming in his eyes. He was terrified, she realized. He was absolutely petrified by the thought that she was leaving him.

Not sure if it was the intelligent thing to do, Danny turned back to him. Allan's features were clearly visible by the light of the almost full moon and stars, shining in the sky above them. Danny was still upset, still confused, but she couldn't keep her eyes from roving over his body, lingering on his strong chest and lean hips. While his form was truly beautiful, her gaze returned to the bare expanse of skin on his neck. The skin that the barmaid had so daringly—and mistakenly—thought she was free to touch and that Danny longed for the chance to taste.

**NOT** consciously deciding to do so, Danny found her feet bringing her closer to Allan and her hands pushing her hood off her head, the soft weight coming to rest upon her back. She stopped before Allan, not removing her gaze from the sun-kissed skin of his throat and therefore missing the look of utter confusion, hope, and lust on Allan's face, for he had felt the heat of her obvious perusal. Reaching up and resting the fingers of her right hand against the side of his throat, Danny placed her left hand on his hip and pulled her body closer to his. She stood up on her tiptoes and, wetting her lips, she placed a light kiss to the expanse of delectable flesh before her on the other side from where the barmaid had.

She felt the vibration of Allan's vocal chords as he involuntarily let loose a sinfully seductive whimper because of her touch. Danny couldn't help herself; she came undone from the sheer pleasure that such a small sound gave her. She pulled Allan down to her and again hungrily caressed his neck with her feverish lips, reveling in his masculine smell and untouched skin. The sounds that escaped his lips fueled the fire spreading throughout her limbs and concentrating just below her belly, her hand twining possessively in his hair.

Unexpectedly, she lightly nipped his neck and with a sort of snarl, Allan wrapped his arms around her and gently leaned her back against the trunk of a tree. He couldn't think straight, hadn't been able to since just a few moments before when this woman—_this unbelievable woman_—had given him the greatest pleasure he had ever felt. It was just a light kiss to his neck, but Allan had damn near _exploded_ with the flames that had shot through him, something that he had never experienced before. Before Allan had completely convinced his limbs to behave and not ravage her stunning body, she had done the unthinkable. She had bitten him—deliberately baited him!—and Allan could not deny any longer that she was feeling the same need he was.

Gathering her up in his arms, he rested her back against a tree and took command of her lips, which she generously opened, granting him access to her delicious mouth and teasing tongue. Unable to help himself and not wanting to anyway, his hands roamed over her body, one tangling in her long, glorious locks and the other resting heavenly on her breast. He rubbed his thumb over her taut peak and she moaned so alluringly that Allan instantly became harder than he had ever been before. He pressed his lower half against her and she sucked in a breath as she felt the obvious sign of his attraction to her and the soft sounds that she was making.

Her fingers daringly slipped underneath the hem of his shirt, brushing the soft skin of his stomach and back. Running her hands up and down his strong torso, she pulled him closer so that there wasn't a millimeter of distance between them, so that she couldn't tell where she ended and Allan began. She felt his hand trail slowly down her body, where it hooked her leg and brought it up, wrapping it around him and bringing him even closer than she had thought possible without breaching her. His hard length pushed against her, seeking her heat through their clothes, promising such pleasure that Danny couldn't even imagine.

Allan continued to kiss and stroke her, cupping both her backside and her breasts. He couldn't believe that he and Danny were this close, had never dreamed that she would return his desire so fully. He was holding her, _touching_ her, and she was whimpering as if she never wanted him to stop. And he didn't...good God, he never wanted to stop kissing her. He wanted so badly to lay her on the grassy forest floor, remove her clothing piece by piece as she removed his, and make love to her until the sun came up. He could picture her there, her lips swollen from his kisses, her blue eyes almost black with desire, opening herself to him…

**A BARRAGE **of images flooded through Allan's mind. Danny smiling at him, wearing _his_ ring on her finger. Crisp, white daisies in her hair as he leaned forward to kiss her before their friends and family. Danny, smiling happily as she dragged him back onto _their_ bed. Danny, sleeping peacefully beside him in his arms, her head resting on his chest. Danny, pregnant with _their_ child, standing in the doorway of the home that they had built together…

It was in this moment that Allan realized the true depth of his feelings for the woman that he encircled in his arms. There was a warm, tingling feeling in his chest—that had been there for days—that he realized had everything to do with the woman to whom he was now virtually fused.

Allan loved her. Completely and unconditionally. _He loved_ _her_.

This realization gave him the inhuman strength that he needed in order to sever his connection with Danny. He wanted Danny for the rest of his life and so he couldn't do this to her. He couldn't take her here, without the benefit of a marriage ceremony. What he wanted was forever and that meant that he could wait. He could wait until he confessed his love for her and she for him because he wanted to do right by her. He didn't want this to be the end of what they had, but the beginning and so he couldn't take her virtue…he didn't want to.

Okay, maybe he _did_—the proof of that was still raging conspicuously—but the point was that he _wouldn't_.

So Allan managed to let go of the most tempting, seductive, and beautiful woman that he had ever seen in his life and step back. What he could _not_ do, however, was turn away from her as he had originally planned and therefore he was privy to the most glorious sight that he had ever beheld. Danny's hair was tousled and her lips were still slightly swollen from the intensity of his onslaught. Her arms were outstretched, still reaching for him, and her eyes were heavy-lidded with desire. For _him_.

Somehow, he knew. He just knew that she had never experienced any of these emotions before, had never had a man hold her in such a close and compromising way. The possessiveness and desire to make her his almost brought him to his knees, almost managed to obliterate his resolve, and almost forced his mouth open to beg her to end his suffering…

She had chosen _him _for some inexplicable reason. What had he done to deserve this? To deserve _her_?

He watched as she dropped her arms and leaned her head back against the tree, closing her eyes and exposing the smooth, alabaster expanse of _her _neck. Allan longed to do to her as she had done to him, but he planted his feet firmly, put his hands on his hips, and struggled to slow his wild, heavy breathing and beating heart.

Danny, too, was having trouble controlling her desires and emotions. Her heart was beating so loudly that she was sure he must hear it, even though he stood at least seven feet away. Her lips tingled and her hands felt empty, her body cold without his warmth next to her. She was grateful though, that he had stopped them when he had and her respect for him grew. What had started as an innocent, exploratory kiss had quickly escalated and gone much further than she had planned.

She opened her eyes and saw Allan still standing far away from her with a pained expression on his face. Inwardly, she laughed without any humor. She knew _exactly_ how he felt.

And that was what shocked her the most. While she might not remember concretely, she knew that she had never been with a man before, never even desired one, never known the pleasure that it could bring…

Eyes roaming over Allan hungrily again, she could just see the bulge in the material of his pants that betrayed his propriety. She knew that he wanted her, that it had cost him quite dearly to stop before making her his own forever, and she felt sorry for having put him in such an uncomfortable position.

Exhaling heavily, Danny apologized. "I'm sorry," she said, "I didn't—"

"Don't," Allan interrupted, standing with his hands on his hips and shaking his head with a small smile on his face. "Don't you _ever_ apologize to me for the greatest few minutes of my life. _That_ would be something that I could never forgive you for."

Danny stared at this man, the man that had somehow torn down every barrier she had built and situated himself in her life. In her _heart_.

The knowledge that he had been right, that she _did_ love him, was not the blissful occurrence that she had thought it would be. Quite the contrary, it was _painful_. Her limbs turned cold and she couldn't breathe. What cruel twist of fate was it that she finally found a man whom she loved, but could not have? It was unfair; her entire, _damn_ life had been a continuous stream of disappointments and heartaches!

Danny hunched over, placing her hands on her knees as she fought to draw a breath. Almost instantly, Allan's boots appeared in her view and his warm, _glorious_ hand materialized on her back, rubbing gently. It was meant to be comforting, but it only served to remind Danny that his hands would never again rest on her body, never again roam over her most lonely places as they had just mere seconds ago. Places that ached for his touch…

She spun quickly out from under Allan's hand, bosom heaving as she struggled to take a full breath. The edges of her vision began to blur and she thought she could feel a section of the black wall holding her memories in check crumble and begin to topple.

She had to get away, had to get away. She couldn't stay here, couldn't stand next to this man as her hopes were dashed and her fears confirmed. They could never be together. _Never_.

"I—I have to…" Danny stammered. "I have to go. Please, _please_, don't follow me. Just…leave me be."

She started to weep and covered her mouth with her right hand to quiet her sobs. Clumsily, she began to sprint into the darkness of the forest, stumbling and almost falling twice as she darted between the trees, her hands resting on them briefly, once again leaving Allan and everything she wanted behind her.

* * *

She weaved between the trees, narrowly missing several as she strained to see through the sheen of tears in her eyes. Spinning to miss a trunk, Danny felt her foot snag on a thick root and she fell flat on her face. She fought to regain her feet and pick up her pace, but she fell again onto her hands and knees.

Tears dripping from her face, Danny fought to remain in the present and not to succumb to the beckoning blackness where she just knew that her worst memory waited for her. It called to her, promising to destroy Danny once and for all.

"No…" Danny begged as her arms gave out and she rested on the cold ground. "Please no…" Her pleading went unheeded, however, and she sank into darkness.

"_You will do this!" her father shouted at her._

_Danny turned to face her father, anger in her eyes and defiance etched in her face. "I will do no such thing," she retorted firmly._

_She was wearing a deep plum, velvet dress with long sleeves that graced the floor and a train that she held to keep herself from tripping on it. Her long tresses tumbled around her waist and a silver circlet adorned her head, her curls accentuating it gracefully. She wore the ring her father had given her and a silver pendant of a lion—to symbolize her family's loyalty to the king—rested between her breasts, hidden by the bodice of the beautiful gown._

_Her father advanced menacingly on her, but Danny stood her ground, forcing herself to seem unbothered by his anger. She gazed lazily at him and saw that he, too, was dressed in his finery. He wore a pair of spotless, black breeches tucked into his gleaming, black boots and a coal black, long-sleeved shirt. Over his shoulders, a deep purple, velvet cloak—that Danny could only assume was to match her dress—was fastened with a silver lion brooch. _

"_You dare to disobey me, daughter?" he asked, his eyes telling her to consider carefully. _

_Surprisingly, Danny was not frightened nor did she feel threatened. She knew that her father loved her dearly and would never intentionally hurt her. She was only slightly anxious that she would not be able to sway his mind because he believed that he was doing the right thing for her._

_She averted her eyes and clasped her hands demurely in front of her. "Father," she said quietly, hoping to curb his anger, "I know that you only desire that which is best for me." She looked back into his eyes and was pleased to see his anger ebbing, "However, I beg you, please do not make me do this." Her voice wavered as her emotions controlled her, tears forming in her eyes at the thought of the horror he was imposing on her._

_Her father saw her watering eyes and grasped her chin, his wrath at her insolence disappearing completely to be replaced with his love. "I know that this seems like an awful sentence," he began quietly, hoping to convince her of his belief, "but I truly believe that a match with Lord Barrington is beneficial for you and this family."_

_She closed her eyes in disappointment and turned her back to him, removing her face from his gentle grasp. "How can something that feels like a death sentence possibly be good for me, Father?" she asked beseechingly._

_His hands rested on her shoulders. "Geoffrey is a good man," he said. "He is wealthy, kind, and loyal to the crown—"_

"_He's twice my age, Father!" Danny interrupted, spinning to gaze into her father's eyes. _

_Her father chose to look down at the floor rather than continue gazing into his daughter's tortured face. "Be that as it may," he began, "he will care for you when I no longer am able."_

"_I don't love him, Father," Danny breathed._

_Her father's gaze returned to her eyes and saw the pain in them, the despair. "With time," he replied, "you may come to love him in your own way."_

_Danny's face contorted with anger. "I will never love him."_

_Her father's face hardened, hating the pain that he was causing her, but refusing to yield. "You will marry Lord Barrington. We do not have the luxury of marrying for love."_

_Danny's face crumpled as her tears began to flow. "Please," she begged one last time, "I don't want to be like my mother."_

_Dropping his arms from her shoulders, her father said decisively, "I will tell Lord Barrington that we accept his proposal," and he walked away from her._

_Glaring at her father's back, Danny gathered her skirts up her hands, bunching them into fists. "I will never marry that man," she growled at her father who turned and looked genuinely surprised at the venom in her voice. "You cannot make me."_

_Danny kicked off her shoes and ran from the room, from her father, from that nightmare, and burst into the night air, rushing blindly. She did not look behind her, but she heard her father yell after her desperately, "Gwyn!"_

"Danny!" she heard. "Danny, come back to me."

She felt warm, calloused hands gripping her face, brushing away her hot tears. She opened her eyes and focused on a pair of blue eyes, staring concernedly back at her. With a start, she realized that it was Allan's beautiful eyes before her and she helplessly flung her arms around his neck, clinging to his shoulders as she continued to sob uncontrollably into his chest.

Allan gripped her just as tightly, running his hands comfortingly through her hair and shushing her quietly. He was worried and scared about the memory that she had clearly just experienced. He had never seen her so out of control, so inconsolable. With each tear that she continued to shed, his anxiety grew exponentially. Had he done this to her? Had he pushed her too far?

At the time, she had seemed to enjoy their closeness, returning his fervor with an equal urgency, but now, he wondered if he had ruined his chance to make her love him. Instead of turning to him, she had turned _away_ from him, choosing to run into the forest rather than discuss what they had just felt and done. Why had she run from him? Why didn't she want to tell him how he made her feel? Didn't she care for him?

While these questions and doubts circulated in his mind, Danny's sobs and tears finally quieted. Her despair remained, blossoming within her, devouring every happiness and wonderful thought she had ever had since she awoke as Danny. She longed to never release this man who held her so lovingly in his arms, but she could not afford that luxury. As her father had said, nobility did not have the privilege of marrying for love, but were instead doomed to a life of misery and captivity.

She breathed in Allan's smell, felt the strength of his muscles beneath her hands, and reveled in roughness of his cheek against her skin. She loved everything about his man, longed to bind herself to him in every possible way, but she could not. No, she was not free to love him because her father had promised her to someone else. She was betrothed and her life was over before it had truly begun.

She was in pain. Her heart didn't beat, it throbbed. Her limbs didn't feel, they burned. Her lips didn't tingle, they stung. She was a shell. She could only stand at the edge of the cliff as the woman known as Danny was pitched off it, disappearing into the void.

Forcefully, the broken woman removed her arms from around the man she had fallen impossibly in love with and stood on shaky legs. She stared down at him, still kneeling on the ground, and said in a cold, dead voice, "I need to be alone. Please, just leave me alone. Leave me in peace."

She began to walk away from him, but he called after her, "Danny!"

She turned to look at him, rising to his feet now, a scared and wounded look on his face, begging her to return to him, to tell him that all was well. She longed to do it, to reassure him as she had first set out to do earlier that evening, but she was only human. She could not achieve the impossible.

"My name isn't Danny," she said resolutely and again jogged into the shadows.

* * *

Danny hadn't returned to camp. How could she? How could she admit to what she had seen? What she had learned?

No, she had sought a quiet place in Sherwood and laid herself down, forcing her eyes to close as she chased elusive sleep. By sheer strength of mind alone, she slipped into oblivion for several numbing hours. When she awoke, the sun had been in the sky for nearly three hours and she had an awful cramp in her back from lying on the hard ground.

For a moment, she thought that that was the worst of her problems and so she sat up, breathing deeply. As she gazed out at the tree trunks, squirrels, and shrubs, however, reality came flooding back to her and she fell upon the ground once more, staring up at the green canopy of leaves.

As she stared, she felt tears begin to prickle at the corners of her eyes, but she refused to weep. Somehow, she felt that Danny was weak compared to the woman she had been before. Gwyn was her name. Gwyn had hardly ever allowed herself the luxury of weeping. It was an act that betrayed weakness and helplessness and now was not the time to succumb. She had to be strong. She had to find a way to survive. It was not in her to surrender without a fight.

So Danny and Gwyn thought over their options.

1) She could return to the boys and tell the truth, 2) she could just not return to camp at all, or 3) she could pretend as if nothing had happened and instead try to figure this out on her own.

If she told the truth, the boys would help her find her family and she would be forced to marry Lord Geoffrey Barrington. That was unbearable and out of the question. Yet she couldn't abandon the boys without so much as a good-bye. Especially Allan. Her dear Allan deserved an explanation. That left the final option. She just wouldn't tell them that she had remembered her name or that she was betrothed. In the grand scheme of things, neither of those discoveries really mattered, neither specifically told her what she needed to know, namely who she truly was, what she had been doing in Sherwood, or what she had done with that pesky letter.

None of the choices were without fault, so she had to decide between the lesser of three evils, meaning that the third option was the most plausible. She would pretend that her name was still Danny, not Gwyn…

_Gwyndolyn._ That was her true name.

At this realization, several images passed before her eyes…

_Her father held out his arms to her, calling her name as a young Gwyn ran to him, catching her in an embrace and twirling her in a circle, his face beaming._

_Her nurse called after her, chasing her through the tall grass, demanding that she return at once._

_A knight in full armor hammered at her as a teenage Gwyn struggled to oppose his advances and defend herself while her father shouted instructions to her._

_Her attendant pulled the strings of her dress tight as she confided to Gwyn that a boy had kissed her the previous night. Gwyn's eyes widened and her mouth loosed conspiratorial giggles._

_Soldiers chased after her, yelling her name, ordering her to stop..._

Danny/Gwyn shook her head to clear the images, stopping the flow.

It was utterly confusing to live two different lives at once, but what else could she do? She wasn't completely Gwyn yet, but Danny was created from the remnants of Gwyn, so who did that make her? What did that mean for her and Allan?

Oh god, _Allan_.

She couldn't tell him that she was promised to another man, but she couldn't lie to him either. It wasn't fair or right to deceive him _or_ to betray her father's promise to this Lord Barrington.

Hope sparked within her. Maybe, just maybe, she could convince her father to annul the agreement made with Lord Barrington once he saw how deeply she loved Allan. Her father wasn't unreasonable or spiteful. He loved her and she truly believed that he just wanted to do what was best for her so he just _had_ to listen to her.

If he disapproved because Allan was an outlaw and of a lower class than they, her choice would be simple. If her father couldn't look past their differences, then he didn't love her as much she thought he did and so she would run away with Allan and leave her father behind.

It was settled. It had been surprisingly simple. A weight lifted from Danny's shoulders and she began her long march back to camp, lighter than she had felt in days.

She was half a mile from camp when the foolishness of her plan struck her, bringing with it the pain and futility. She had been so close. She had almost convinced herself that everything would be okay. She sank to the ground and curled up into a small ball, a hollow feeling centering in her chest. The pain from last night returned in full force and she was back to where she began.

She was not naïve. Her father would not allow her to marry a man below their station when someone as wealthy as Lord Barrington promised to increase the family's prosperity and standing.

A terrible choice lay before her. She had to choose between a life of misery and a life of feigned ignorance. She would have to choose between Allan and her father. The inevitability of it tormented her.

There was only one option available to her now. Until she could speak with her father, until she was able to make that awful choice, she had to sever all ties with Allan that extended beyond friendship. She had to end their relationship.

As she lay on the ground, her poor, battered, and recently mended heart broke into pieces.

* * *

**Okay, just one note. Her name is _Gwyndolyn,_ like Gwendolyn, but the first syllable is pronounced so that it rhymes with _sin_. Hope that helps. OMG, she has a name! Finally.**

**Reviews?**


	12. Acquaintances

**It's been quite a while so...**

**RECAP: Allan and Danny took their relationship to a new physical level that triggered an memory within Danny. She ran from Allan and remembered that her father had promised her to a man named Lord Geoffrey Barrington some time ago. Unable to face Allan knowing that they couldn't be together, Danny decided that she must sever any ties with Allan. However, that may prove harder than she feared...**

* * *

Allan paced back and forth in front of the campsite, arms folded across his chest and chewing on his fingernails absentmindedly. His incessant worrying began to grate on the gang's nerves, each shooting one another pointed glances, urging someone else to say something. Naturally, they all looked to Robin and, rolling his eyes, he complied.

"Allan," Robin began, "Would you quit it?"

Turning toward them and looking like he had just noticed they were there, Allan shrugged his shoulders. "Quit what?" he asked, trying to appear nonchalant.

"Your worrying," Robin answered. "Just tell us what happened."

"Nothing happened," Allan replied, turning his back on the gang again.

"Oh, come on, Allan," Much said. "We all know that something happened." He paused, then asked accusingly, "What did you do?"

"What?" Allan spun around incredulously. "What do you mean 'what did I do'?"

"Allan," Will broke in, laying a hand on his shoulder to try to keep Allan from lunging at Much, "what Much meant was that it's just a bit odd for Danny to leave here to find you and then not come back _with_ you after all that trouble. We're just a little confused, mate."

Allan's shoulders sagged and he sighed, his distress evident on his face. He looked up at Will, despair in his eyes, and confided softly, "I think I really messed things up this time."

It was into this scene that Danny stumbled, having finally collected the scattered pieces of her heart and having firmed her resolve. She forced a friendly look upon her face, taking in the hurt made clear by the lines of Allan's body, and said, "Good morning, gents. Djaq," she added cheerfully, nodding at the seated woman.

If she had not been so upset, she might have laughed at the looks upon their faces, filled with shock, incredulity, and utter confusion. She could feel that she had been the previous subject of their conversation, but, refusing to let them see any weakness, she walked over to the pot and spooned out some of the porridge that Much had made. She sat down next to Djaq and commenced eating, trying her hardest to ignore the silence and avoid eye contact.

When a minute had passed, Danny looked up, glancing at each one of them, pain shooting through her as she observed Allan. He looked as awful as she felt. Judging by the shadows under his eyes and the haggard lines of his face, Danny could tell that he hadn't gotten any sleep the previous night. His usually congenial eyes were cold and infused with apology, confusing Danny. What did Allan have to feel guilty about?

Realizing that she had to break the silence, she swallowed her mouthful, shrugged her shoulders, and asked, "What?"

Allan crossed the camp and knelt down before her, placing his warm, large hand upon her knee. "Are you all right?" he asked quietly, so much concern and—damn it—affection for her in his beautiful eyes. Hurting him was going to be much harder than she had hoped it would be.

She forced an uncomfortable laugh and carefully shifted her leg so that his hand fell from her knee. Trying to ignore the unbridled pain in Allan's eyes, she answered, "I'm fine."

Noticing the glances of uncertainty passed between the gang, Danny rolled her eyes and said convincingly, "What? Allan and I had an…argument and I needed some space. Now I'm back. No big deal, no harm done." She resumed eating her breakfast as she watched Allan turn his back to everyone and walk out of the camp, his shoulders hunched. Another blast of searing pain passed through her chest at Allan's obvious anguish. But there was nothing else for it. It had to be done. She had to hurt Allan irreparably in order to release him.

Unbeknownst to Danny, another pair of eyes watched Allan leave the camp and, in confusion, he slipped out and followed the miserable man silently.

* * *

Numb, Allan stumbled along through the forest for what had seemed like hours, but, in reality had only been minutes. Lost in his own thoughts, he stared unseeingly at the ground. Instead, he looked upon his memories. Memories that had always given him solace and pleasure, but now filled him with unthinkable pain and crushing guilt.

He saw Danny lying upon the table, face bruised, brilliant hair fanned out, and he remembered holding her hand for the first time, urging her to wake up, to see him. He remembered the first vivid glimpse of life in her face as she woke, how she joked with him, how compatible they were without even knowing each other at all. He remembered the look of sheer terror upon her face when she realized that she remembered nothing from her past and he remembered how his presence and warmth had calmed her so quickly. He relived their first kiss, the electricity that had burned through him, the taste of her upon his tongue….

Last night. He remembered last night and it left a bitter flavor in his mouth, bringing with it inconsolable guilt. Lashing out, he punched a nearby tree with his right fist. How could he have been so stupid? Realizing that the pain from his hand felt better than this grief, he hit it again with his left. He should have known to take it more slowly! He had _wanted_ to take it slowly, had wanted things to be different this time, but he had ruined it like he ruined everything else!

Repeatedly striking the tree, Allan's mind threw him one last memory: the look of indifference in her eyes as she brushed his hand away. How she had walked into camp as if nothing was wrong…as if he didn't matter to her in the slightest.

This realization drove the breath from his lungs and, in utter pain, he slid down the tree and rested his bruised and bleeding hands atop his knees, his head bowed. Tears welled in his eyes and he realized that he wanted to cry, that he _needed_ to cry. There was simply no other way to express the depth of his hurt and emotion.

Just as the first of his tears was close to falling, Allan heard a branch snap and he whipped his head up, hope erupting in his chest. Had she really followed him?

No. No, of course she hadn't. He had destroyed what they could have been with his intense masculine desires.

Little John stood before him, but Allan didn't care. The death of the hope in his heart hit him with new agony and the tears fell unchecked, uncaring of who saw them. Allan wept with loud sobs that shook his shoulders and came from deep within his core. He wept until he couldn't anymore.

Finally, Allan lifted his head and raised a hand to brush the hair from his eyes. He felt the tears drying on his face, but he didn't mind. He had already broken down in front of Little John, what did it matter if he left the evidence on his face?

Clearing his throat and leaning his aching head back against the tree, Allan asked, "What are you doing here?"

Little John walked the few steps over to stand before Allan, looking down at him with compassion and pity in his gaze. He lowered his body into a crouch and shifted his gaze to the ground. Taking a deep breath, Little John began speaking, "Allan, I don't know what happened and I don't need to know, but…" Little John paused as he searched for the right words, "But I know both you and Danny. I've watched you these past few weeks, from the moment that we found that girl to this point where she's broken your heart, and there is one truth that I am sure of."

Allan looked into John's eyes as he paused again. "And what truth is that?" Allan asked flatly.

"That somehow, in some way," Little John answered, "you've managed to wheedle and push your way into that girl's heart. Her feelings about you have always been present in her eyes. You could always see how much she cared for you—"

Allan interrupted Little John as he began pushing himself up from the ground, "Yeah, well," he began, "there was nothing in her eyes just a few moments ago."

Little John also stood to his full height and snagged Allan's arm as he tried to push past him, pulling Allan back to face him. "Exactly," he growled pointedly. "There was _nothing_ in her eyes!"

Allan laughed humorlessly, "Look, I'm not being funny, but a girl practically telling you to get lost isn't usually how she expresses her undying love."

Allan tried to brush John's hand away, but Little John gripped him more tightly, giving him a little shake. "Danny has always looked at you with something in her eyes, whether it was love, amusement, annoyance, or something else," John argued. "But just a moment ago, there was nothing. Not anger, not hatred, not even disgust." Little John released Allan's arm and stepped back. "To me, that means that she was trying hard to hide something from you, from all of us. To me, that proves that she is lying about something."

Allan frowned, thinking about what Little John had said. From the moment that those eyes of hers fluttered open, they had been easy to read. Danny's emotions had always showed clearly in them. She was like an open book, so what exactly had Allan seen in her eyes?

Fear. Allan realized that he had seen fear. He had seen her fear that she tried to cover with her indifference and he discovered that he had also seen pain.

Why would Danny have tried to cover her fear and pain with indifference? Allan thought back to the previous night. She had been furious with him after they left Nottingham, but it seemed like she had forgiven him. She had initiated their tryst with that kiss to his neck, after all. _And_ Allan was certain that she had been as stirred by him as he had been by her. So why had she run crying from him? And why, _why_, had she tried to hide her feelings for him?

_My name isn't Danny…_

Allan suddenly remembered her saying that to him last night before she had run into the darkness. At the time, Allan had thought nothing of it. He had been more worried about what he had done to make her weep as uncontrollably as she had been, but what if…what if he _hadn't_ been the reason?

_My name isn't Danny…_

Danny had run from him twice last night, both times asking him to leave her alone. To leave her in peace. What if she had had something to think about? What if she had encountered another memory?

But she had always told Allan what she remembered. In fact, he had always been the first person that she told. So why would this memory be any different?

_My name isn't Danny…_

Was that it? Had she remembered who she truly was?

But then why would she be afraid and hurting? Wouldn't she be happy? She longed to remember her past, to find her father, so why would the occasion bring her only despair?

Her indifference. Allan felt like that was the key. Why would she have pretended that she cared nothing for him once she remembered her true name?

Allan's revelations hit a stone wall. He couldn't answer these questions, but Danny could. She _had_ to.

Allan returned to Sherwood from his thoughts. He clapped Little John, who was looking at Allan questioningly, on the shoulder and said, "Thanks. You were right."

Little John nodded at him and gave him a small smile. "Go ask her those questions," he said. "If you really care about her, don't let her push you away. No matter what she says. No matter how hurtful she is."

Allan nodded, "You're right. I need to understand."

"Good," Little John said. "Now go."

Allan smiled and broke into a jog, heading back for camp and for Danny.

* * *

Danny juggled the various dishes in her arms as she stumbled down the path to the stream. Needing to be busy and desiring privacy, Danny had gladly volunteered for the chore of washing dishes. Maybe she could scrub the look of betrayal in Allan's eyes from her mind just as she cleared away the morning's porridge.

Doubtful, but she felt that she needed to delude herself. She was lying to everyone else so she reasoned that it was only fair and right to give herself the same treatment.

Of course, forgetting about Allan was an act that was easier said than done. As she laid the dishes on the bank of the stream and lowered herself to her knees, she couldn't help but remember that she and Allan had shared their first kiss here. Her cheeks began to heat as she remembered the previous night beginning with that first kiss she had given him.

It had been everything that she had visualized and more. Pressing her lips to that smooth pressure point, hearing the soft moan that had escaped his lips, the press of him against her….

Being on her own to wash dishes had not been a good idea. Solitude only forced her into her thoughts and the only pleasant memories that she had and that she wished to dwell on involved Allan. Allan, whom she had decided to abandon. Allan, whom she longed to love, but was forced to break.

Putting aside the pot that she was holding, Danny rested her head in her hands, willing herself not to cry at the pain that she was feeling. Was she doing the right thing? She knew now that it wasn't a possibility for her to love Allan. Should she simply leave Sherwood? Leave Allan, the boys, and Djaq behind? Should she leave Danny behind as well?

She wanted to. It would be so much easier to just disappear. Apparently, it was something that she was good at, having gone without recapture for so long. Her thoughts drifted back to her first days in Sherwood, with the bruises on her face and her wrists rubbed raw from being shackled.

No. No, she couldn't just leave. She had too many questions that needed answering before she allowed herself to vanish. She needed to find Robin's letter, she had to learn who was following her. She had to figure out _why_ they were looking for her. Most importantly, she had to remember who she truly was. It was true that she now had a name, but a first name was not much to go on.

No. It was in her best interests to stay with the lads. No matter how much it hurt her look at Allan with indifference in her eyes.

She quickly finished scrubbing the dishes and gathered them into her arms. Taking a deep breath, she tried to purge Allan from her thoughts. Rebelliously, the memory of him laughing with her, the light shining from his eyes, remained in her mind.

Shaking her head and making a disgruntled sound, Danny decided that she needed a distraction. Little John, Will, and Robin had mentioned earlier that they were making a delivery to a small village nearby. Perhaps it was time that she truly committed to a life outside Sherwood. Maybe she would feel more like herself if she began living again, doing things that made her happy.

Decided, she began the long walk back to camp, humming a melody that came naturally to her, as if from a dream. She was focused so intently upon the tune, in fact, that she didn't hear the swiftly moving footsteps until Allan appeared from around the bend ahead.

Foolishly, her first idea was to hide rather than face him, but she resolutely kept walking towards the camp.

"There you are," Allan panted, stopping before her.

"I was just doing some cleaning," Danny replied conversationally, gesturing to the various dishes in her hands.

"Let me help you with those," Allan said with a small smile.

Confused, Danny frowned slightly and a chill roiled within her. She had effectively ended what she and Allan had shared, but he was now smiling at her? Had she meant so little to him that the pain he had obviously felt at her rejection faded so quickly?

Allan reached toward the dishes in her arms, exposing a sight that caused a new emotion to churn within her chest. His hands were bruised and bleeding, knuckles broken open with several severe looking splinters present in and around the open wounds. Guilt rose within her, as did bile, as she inherently knew that she was the cause of this, that he bled because of her.

Unceremoniously, Danny let the dishes in her arms fall to the ground with a clatter. Forgetting her previous resolutions to distance herself from Allan, she grabbed hold of his hands gently, inspecting the damage more closely. "What have you done?" she demanded softly.

Allan pulled his hands away and placed them behind his back sheepishly. "It's nothing," he replied quickly.

Without a response, Danny grabbed Allan's wrist and led him back toward the stream, gently pushing him down onto his knees by the edge of the water. She soon followed him, making the mistake of meeting his eyes. It was in that moment that she realized her act earlier hadn't convinced him. Somehow, he knew, causing her heart to swell with an emotion that she wasn't yet ready to verbally name.

The tenderness in his eyes made her want to divulge the truth, but there was also confusion and a small measure of mistrust. He was justified in feeling both emotions, especially since he had seen through her earlier sham more easily than she had anticipated.

Knowing that she couldn't tell him the truth just yet, Danny returned to the present crisis of caring for Allan's battered hands. Reaching into the small of her back, Danny withdrew her dagger and sliced off a small portion of her hemline, ignoring Allan's late objections.

"You didn't have to do that," Allan spoke as Danny dipped the scrap of cloth into the water.

Danny shrugged her shoulders. "You would do the same for me," she replied, her guilt making her voice quake slightly.

Wincing, Danny tenderly dabbed at Allan's hand, pulling back when she heard Allan suck in a sharp breath.

Danny scrunched her eyes shut tightly and threw the cloth down, bringing her hands to her face in order to cover her eyes. She had done nothing but bring pain to this wonderful man. A man whom she loved, she painfully remembered, heart and soul, irrevocably and unconditionally. The fact that he knelt before her, both in emotional and physical pain, was too much for her to bear. Before the tears leaked from underneath her eyelids, Danny pushed herself to her feet. Without looking down at Allan, she said breathlessly, "I'm going to go and get Djaq. She'll know what to do better than me."

She'd taken several shaky steps when she felt Allan's hand encircle her arm. The warmth radiated from his palm and the temptation to turn and curl herself into his chest, to force her body close to his, to merge her heart with his, was almost too great. Instead, two tears ran down her cheeks as she struggled for air.

"Danny," she heard him breathe softly as he came around to stand before her.

She spun to face the stream again, extricating her arm from his grasp as she wrapped them around herself, desperate to feel a shadow of the warmth that he radiated.

"Danny," she heard him breathe again, emotion evident in the deep rumble of his voice. "Danny, please look at me."

Before she could force herself to keep silent, she divulged, "I can't."

Patiently, Allan asked, "And why not?"

She couldn't do it. She couldn't lie to him again, so she said, "Because then you'll know." Her arms dropped back to her sides as her tears stopped, "You'll know that I lied to you."

Surprisingly, Danny heard Allan chuckle softly behind her. She frowned confusedly, but sucked in a shocked breath when she felt Allan's arms wrap around her waist, pulling her body back into his firm one as his mouth appeared next to her ear.

"Oh, Danny," he sighed, his breath warm against her sensitive skin sending heat to scorch her belly, "I already knew that." Before Danny registered surprise at his statement, Allan placed an open-mouthed kiss to the exposed expanse of skin just below her ear.

Involuntarily, she moaned, closing her eyes to focus on the pleasure coursing through her veins. She willed him to do it again, but she realized that he was now waiting for her, for some cue about how he should proceed. Forgetting her earlier resolve, she obliged him, "Please, Allan," she whispered, "Please don't stop." She turned her face away from his, giving him more access to the skin that ached for his kisses, that she longed for him attend. She closed her eyes and waited…and waited. She waited, but the touch she expected never came. Instead, Allan released her and stepped back.

Confused and embarrassed, Danny spun around to face him, though she was unable to meet his eyes.

"No, Danny," Allan finally said. "We need to talk first."

Still staring at the ground, Danny replied, "I have nothing to say."

"Then listen to me," Allan said so firmly that his voice practically demanded Danny to look him in the eye. When he saw that he had her undivided attention, Allan continued, "I don't know what you're playing at, Danny. I don't know what you think is going on between us," Allan paused as he crossed his arms across his chest, but then his expression hardened, and Danny was shocked to see anger seep into his eyes, "but if you think that my feelings for you would be stopped so easily with a single look, then you are _sorely_ mistaken."

Ashamed, Danny once again averted her eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but Allan spoke over her.

"I've done some foolish things in my life, Danny," Allan continued, "but I am _not_ a foolish man. So what is it?" he asked softly, confusing Danny again before he finished, "What was it that you remembered last night?"

Her eyes shot to meet Allan's and they widened with surprise, verifying that Allan had been right in assuming that she was hiding a memory from him. He felt a twinge in his chest, pain at the incontrovertible proof that she had kept something so important from him, but he forced himself to stand strong. He needed her to understand that his feelings for her were fierce and that she couldn't get rid of him so easily.

Danny's eyes darted back and forth as she strove to think of an answer to give him. She twisted her hands nervously in front of her and her breathing became shallow and rapid. Bringing a hand to sweep her shining hair back from her face, she turned back to the stream momentarily. There was so much that she wanted to say to him, so much that she felt he needed to know. And why shouldn't she tell him? She didn't have to tell him the whole truth and she needed him right now. Her father's promise be damned. She loved this man and she was going to tell him so even if the pain she felt later destroyed her, even if she broke her vow to stay away from him. She cared for him too deeply not to tell him some of the truth. She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and tossed her head back before facing Allan once more, resolute.

"You're right," she admitted. "Of course you are right. About everything." She gave him a small, rueful smile that tugged at Allan's heart, but what she said next almost made him blush. "Last night, how you touched me, how you made me feel," she paused as she had to take a deep breath to continue, "I've never felt that way. I've never wanted anything so badly as I wanted you in that moment." She looked away from his eyes, blinking furiously, but then she smiled slightly and looked back up at him, color appearing in her cheeks. "Allan," she murmured, "Allan, I've fallen in love with you."

Allan blinked twice, but then her words registered in his mind. She loved him. Truly, she did. He had suspected, of course, but to actually hear her say the words caused an explosion in his chest. He couldn't stand to be so far away from her; even now, he could see that she was unsure of his affections, that she worried he would reject her. He longed to dispel that vulnerable look upon her face, so he took the two steps that closed the space between them and took her face gently in both of his hands.

He gazed into her blue eyes and lowered his lips to hers. He kissed her once softly and then returned his mouth to hers immediately, sighing as her lips responded under his own. He felt her hands grip his hips tightly as she melded her body to him, joining the firm muscle of his chest and abdomen with the soft, feminine curves of her own. Allan opened his mouth and touched his tongue to her bottom lip, begging her wordlessly to allow him entrance, which she granted by enthusiastically touching her own tongue to his. Allan slid his hands down her shoulders to rest at the small of her back as he pulled her even closer to him while their tongues continued to dance. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she stood on her tiptoes to match his height, her luscious breasts pressing against his chest.

Allan kissed her softly, soundly…lovingly. He tried to express his feelings for her, his supreme happiness that she felt the same for him, without needing to tear his mouth from hers. He never wanted to part his lips from her exquisite ones so he tried desperately to impart his love for her without pulling away. Then the memory of her saying that she loved him replayed in his mind once more, triggering a warmth that emanated from his own heart throughout his limbs and causing the corners of his mouth to turn up into a smile. He wanted her to feel this. He wanted her to know this joy at hearing the person you love return the sentiment, so it was with great difficulty that Allan leaned his head back slightly, still holding her tightly against him, and gazed into her heavy-lidded eyes. He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand and whispered, "I love you too."

Allan's heart jumped when he saw her eyes widen with joy and he felt a jolt in his lower body as she bit into her lower lip as a smile creased her face. Her hand wrapped into his hair and she pulled his head down for another gentle kiss.

Carefully, Danny extricated herself from Allan's heavenly embrace and knelt down beside the stream, pulling him down beside her. He simply gazed into her eyes as Danny reached for the strip of cloth that she had thrown down just moments ago and she wet it in the water again. She gently grasped his hand and began to wash the blood and splinters away, still reveling in the happiness caused by his revelation.

She had thought that his feelings for her were as strong as her own for him, but to hear it reaffirmed exhilarated her. He had loved her so much that even though she had treated him horribly, he had refused to give up on her, to give up on _them_. She knew now that she had to be strong and do the same.

When she finished with his hands, she glanced back into his eyes, "I love you, Allan," she said again, enjoying the color that flooded his cheeks as he beamed at her.

"I love you too, Danny," he replied.

Without pausing, without thinking, Danny corrected, "Gwyn."

Confused, Allan cocked his head in question.

Knowing that it was the right thing to do and not regretting it in the slightest, Danny said, "You were right when you said that I had a memory last night. I remembered my name," Danny shrugged as Allan's eyes widened. "My name is Gwyn," she finished.

Allan rolled the name around in his head for a moment, surprised that she had remembered something so monumental. She wasn't Danny, she was Gwyn. _Gwyn_. He decided in that moment that he loved the name, almost as much as he loved the woman.

"Well, Gwyn," he smiled, "I'm pleased to make your acquaintance."

Gwyn blushed and her eyes glanced at the ground. "And I yours," she said quietly.

Allan leaned forward until he was within inches of her face and brought a freshly cleaned hand to her cheek. "I love you, Gwyn," he pronounced just before he brushed his lips against hers.

Sighing contentedly, Gwyn thought her heart would shatter again, this time from the bliss that she felt.

* * *

**Hey guys! It's been way too long and that is totally on me. I admit that I hit quite a writer's block in the last month and I really want to apologize for that. I think that I finally managed to break through it though and I hope that this chapter wasn't too disappointing. It was mostly filler stuff, but there should be some intense drama in the next chapter or so! Stay tuned...**

**Review? **


	13. Desperation

**Well, hello everyone! I am ashamed to say that it has been over a month since I have posted a chapter and I hope that no one was _too_ upset with me! I just sort of lost momentum on this, but with some new reviews (thank you _libBar_) my love for Allan and Danny was rekindled!**

**I know that it has been a while, so hopefully no one is too lost!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except for Gwyn/Danny.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 13: Desperation**

Gwyn reached up and placed her hand into Allan's outstretched one, smiling as he helped her up off the ground. She knew that her thoughts should be in turmoil, that she should be upset and frantic, but she was still reeling from the last half hour she had spent with Allan. She would never forget the look in his eyes as he whispered that he loved her nor would she forget the kiss they had shared that had been so much more than just a kiss; it had been a proclamation and a validation of words that remained unsaid and those which had just been uttered.

Gwyn held tightly to Allan's hand as they silently began walking back up the path to camp. Looking over at him, she was pleased to see that he was still trying to fight the smile from his face and Gwyn loved that she had put it there.

He shook his head in disbelief. "So Gwyn," he said. "I can't believe that you finally remembered who you were."

Gwyn cringed. "Not exactly," she replied. "I remembered my _name_. That doesn't tell me who I was. I still have no idea where to begin looking."

Allan frowned and asked confusedly, "But if you only remembered your name, then why were you so upset last night? Why did you act like I meant nothing to you?"

Frantically, Gwyn responded with the first answer that came to her mind, knowing that she couldn't tell him the truth. "It was such a shock," she said. "I wasn't really thinking clearly."

Allan sucked in a breath as if he wanted to say something, but Gwyn shot him a pleading look and he closed his mouth.

"Thanks," she said gratefully. "I don't really want to talk about it. In fact," Gwyn said thoughtfully, continuing as though a thought had just occurred to her, "I would much prefer that you continue to call me Danny."

"Really?" Allan asked uncertainly.

Nodding earnestly, Danny answered, "Yes. Gwyn is still such a stranger to me, but Danny I know. I like being Danny." Looking down at the ground, she replied honestly and sincerely, "I wish that I could just be Danny and forget Gwyn ever existed."

"You don't mean that," Allan said uncomfortably.

"Yes, I do," she said. "My name is Danny. Just Danny and I would appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone about Gwyn."

"About Gwyn?" Allan repeated, confused. "You make her sound like my mistress, Dan." Allan cracked a smile and continued, holding his hand to his heart, "I swear I'm not seeing anyone else."

Laughing and relieved that Allan had broken the awkward tension, Danny replied, "I'm not so sure. I seem to remember a rather enthusiastic barmaid."

"You mean Lacey?" Allan asked, smile dropping from his cheeks as he joked. "No, I broke it off with her the day I met you, love."

Laughing, Danny punched him lightly in the arm. "You better have."

"Ow," Allan complained, pointing at his black and blue jaw. "I'm still smarting from the last time you hit me in a jealous rage." Allan laughed at the indignant look on her face.

"You deserved that one," Danny confirmed. "And I wasn't jealous."

"Oh really?" Allan contested. "Then explain why you felt the need to prove that you could do it better?"

Shrugging nonchalantly, Danny lied, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Practically seducing me? Kissing my neck?" Allan recounted. "Do you not remember anything from last night?" Allan demanded, acting hurt, but with a glint in his eyes.

Blushing, Danny replied, "I remember plenty." She paused, then continued seriously, "Thanks for that, by the way."

"For what?" Allan asked, pretending to be clueless.

"You know," Danny responded, too embarrassed to say what was on her mind.

"You mean not laying you down and making love to right then and there?" Allan suggested point-blank with a straight face.

Blushing even more deeply, Danny found it difficult even to look at him so she simply nodded. Apparently Allan wasn't content was this reaction because he stopped her, lightly snagging her arm and turning her to face him. Danny still found it unbearable to look into his eyes, but Allan tilted her chin up, forcing her to relent to his searching gaze.

There was a seriousness in his face that Danny had never seen before and which extended all the way through to his usually joking eyes. Surprising her, he whispered softly, "When I make love to you, Danny, it's going to be right. It's going to be so perfect that you'll never want to leave me. I'll never let you go. You'll be mine forever."

Somehow knowing that she wouldn't be able to say anything in response, Allan simply winked and then released her, continuing to walk up the path back to camp and leaving her in a both shocked and thoroughly anticipatory silence.

* * *

Two weeks brought a lot of change to Sherwood Forest. Danny and Allan weren't so private with their romance now and so they were often seen holding hands or sitting close to one another. Another thing that had changed was that Danny regularly went out with the lads on drop-offs, when they would distribute the money and goods that they had managed to secure to those who were less fortunate.

It had become the best part of Danny's days. There was nothing more gratifying to her than to see the smile on a child's face as she handed him a loaf of bread. Just as satisfying were the thankful embraces that she received from parents who no longer had to worry about their children starving.

Most of all, though, Danny loved the company. She hadn't realized just how secluded she had been in the forest until she began making regular trips out with the gang. Many of the villagers enjoyed meeting her and remarked that she was doing an excellent job of caring for the boys, which was the praise that Danny was most proud to hear.

She enjoyed two weeks of bliss—two weeks in which she suffered no flashbacks—and, while the slowly returning knowledge of her identity was looming, Danny forced herself to live in the moment with Allan, before she lost him forever.

Two weeks. Two weeks and then everything went wrong.

The day began normally enough. Danny woke and made breakfast, washing the dishes once the gang had finished eating. They had then sat around for a few minutes, talking and joking with each other, before Allan and Little John had set off on a routine patrol to watch the road through the forest.

A few hours later, while Danny was practicing her archery, Allan came running over the hill into camp, panting loudly since he had sprinted the whole way.

"Robin!" he called and Robin poked his head out from the shelter.

"What's going on?" he asked.

Bending over with his hands on his hands, Allan managed to say, "Caravan. Headed to Nottingham. Looks like Prince John's men." He held his hands out to his side, hinting at size, as he finished, "Big lockbox."

Intrigued, Robin asked, "How many men?"

"I figure about sixteen," Allan replied.

Robin began to pace back and forth, rubbing his face with his hand while he thought. After a few passes, he turned to Danny while Will, Djaq, and Much watched in anticipation and hope of such a large haul.

Danny stood leaning on her bow, returning Robin's gaze with question in her eyes.

"Danny, I never wanted to ask this of you, but…we'll need every man possible so," Robin began, holding out his hands to her, "would you join us? Would you help us?"

Danny smiled at Robin's obvious discomfort. "Of course, Robin," she replied, shocked at the relief that she saw on Robin's face. "Did you honestly think that I would say no?"

Robin shrugged. "This could be dangerous," he explained. "We've never gone against Prince John's men and I don't want you to feel like you have to say yes."

"It's all the more reason for me to agree," Danny replied firmly, walking up to Robin and laying a hand on his arm. Speaking quietly, she finished, "I don't know where or when I learned to fight, but I'm good at it and I won't let those dearest to me get hurt. I can help, Robin."

Convinced, Robin nodded once. "All right," he called. "Let's go see what we've got."

The camp was thrown into commotion as they all hurried to grab their gear and prepare themselves. As Danny wrapped her black cloak around her shoulders, Allan came to her side and grasped her arm firmly, saying quietly with fear in his eyes, "I don't want you to come."

Danny frowned in question and so Allan continued pleadingly, "It's like Robin said, we don't know what to expect from Prince John's men. You could get hurt."

Danny shook her head, placing a hand on Allan's cheek into which he leaned, pressing it more firmly against his skin. Sighing, Danny replied, "So could you. And I could not bear that, not when I might save you." She smiled and joked, "Besides, I've already saved your hide once…or have you forgotten that little mishap with Gisbourne?"

Allan smiled and nodded. "You're probably right," he said. He grew serious again as he begged, "But please be careful."

Smiling, she pressed into him and placed a kiss against his lips, still receiving a pleasant shock from the act. Leaning back, she promised, "Always."

After strapping the belt that held her short swords and dagger around her hips, Danny reached back and pulled her black hood up over her head, swinging her full quiver and bow around her back. Once Allan, Djaq, Will, Much and Allan had armed themselves with their own weapons of choice, they all followed Robin out of the camp silently.

After moving stealthily through the woods for about twenty minutes, Robin held up his hand, signaling them all to stop. He let out a low whistle and, hearing it returned, he looked in the direction from which it came and led them over to where Little John was waiting.

"I count twelve men outside the carriage," Little John whispered. "And I assume that there's at least five inside it, guarding the chest."

Robin nodded and looked surreptitiously over the log and ledge, behind which they were all hiding. After studying what he saw below him for several moments, he ducked back down and turned to face them all, picking up a stick that was on the ground below him and using it to gesture.

"All right," he said. "This is what we're going to do. We're going to wait until they reach the fork in the road ahead that leads to Nottingham. Djaq and Will, I want you two to run ahead now and wait there and be ready to activate those traps, okay?"

They both nodded and sped off, clear to their purpose.

"Allan," Robin turned to his left. "I want you to wait in the tree above the road and drop down to sever the ties holding the horses to the wagon once we've started the distraction."

Allan nodded firmly and Robin continued, "Much, Little John, and I will engage the remaining men. Once Allan has stopped their ability to race off with the money, he will join us in the fighting. Hopefully by then, Will and Djaq will be able to help, too."

Frowning, Danny asked, "And what about me?"

Robin looked at her and answered, "I want you covering us from above with your bow. We're going to be counting on you to watch our backs, so…" He paused as he looked at her seriously, "Don't miss."

Danny laughed. "I never miss, Rob," she replied.

"So we shan't have any problems, then," Robin said with a smile.

He gestured and they all took off running in order to intercept the wagon.

Fifteen minutes later, they had reached the rendezvous point and had settled in to wait for the caravan. Danny looked down and was able to spot each one of the Merrymen from her perch high up on the ridge. Robin, Much, and Little John waited in the brush, ready to spring out at the soldiers, and Allan crouched in the canopy of leaves on the branch that hung low over the road. Will and Djaq stood on opposite sides of the road as they laid in wait to spring the traps that would fool the caravan into thinking that they were surrounded and to catch the horses. It was also part of Danny's job to move her position as she fired arrows in order to reinforce the idea that they were surrounded.

It was only a short wait until Danny could see the horses pulling the carriage surrounded on each side by several armed guards. It wasn't until they had almost reached the trap that Danny was able to see them clearly enough to make out their faces and the raiment in which they were adorned.

Staring closely at the man nearest to her, Danny gasped audibly, quickly covering her mouth with her hand to keep herself from making any further noise of surprise. The soldier was wearing a black tunic under a chain mail corselet with red sleeves and his helmet was gleaming silver with a nosepiece that only left a small space through which his eyes could stare. His legs were covered by black breeches and leather boots and there was a small, golden lion stitched onto the upper portion of the left sleeve of the tunic.

The other men were similarly dressed and as Danny studied each of them, she felt herself begin to succumb to the darkness that she had avoided for the last two weeks as she was assailed by a memory.

_Danny was pushed to her knees in front of a man in a black and red tunic, her hands bound savagely behind her back with tight, iron shackles. The man sat in a chair at a makeshift table, eating what looked like a rabbit that had been cooked over the nearby fire._

_He had short curly hair and a black goatee, which the man smoothed before he turned to look at her. His eyes were a dark brown, framed by long, dark lashes, but he gazed at her as if he was bored and she was something dirty with which he would rather not have been associated._

_Clearing his throat, he sighed and asked, "Do you know why you are here?"_

_Shrugging nonchalantly, Danny replied, "I killed one of your men."_

_From her left side, another soldier appeared and struck her hard across the face with his knuckles, knocking her off balance, but she managed to stay upright. Running her tongue along the inside of her cheek, Danny tasted blood but didn't feel any serious damage. Turning to the side, she spit the blood from her mouth at the foot of the man in front of her, who was clearly the highest-ranking officer among the group of soldiers._

_Picking at the food in front of him, the man corrected, "You have killed _several_ of my men." He looked down at her and explained, "And the rest don't much care for you because of it."_

"_I guess that I can understand that," Danny replied. Looking up at the soldier who had struck her, she pushed daringly, "How many of your friends did I kill? Seven?"_

_The man made to hit her again, but stopped when the leader held up a hand. Leaning back, the soldier growled through gritted teeth, "Nine."_

_Danny nodded. "Ah yes," she breathed, "Now I remember."_

_She turned back to face the leader, who was now wiping his greasy fingers on a napkin. When he was finished, he threw the linen down and stood, increasing the difference in height between him and Danny and reinforcing his dominance over her._

"_We've been chasing you for three days," the man said. Crouching down before her, he demanded insistently, "Where is the letter, Gwyn?"_

_Gazing directly into his eyes, Danny shrugged. "And what letter would this be?" she asked, acting as if she had no idea what the man was talking about._

_The leader backhanded her and then gripped her chin hard in his hands, growling, "You were given a letter to deliver to someone here in England. Where is it?"_

_Danny remained silent, but gazed defiantly into his eyes, a small, confident smile on her face that silently told the man he would never know. _

"_You will tell me," the man replied softly, nodding his head. Releasing her chin, he called to the soldier on her left, "You there, do try and make our guest here more compliant, will you?"_

_He smiled down at Danny and bent once more until they were face to face. "A few minutes with my men and you will be begging to tell me," he informed her with a smile on his face._

_Hating him and wanting to wipe the smirk from his cheeks, Danny gathered what blood and saliva she had in her mouth and spit it forcefully into his eyes, laughing when he jerked back in disgust, furiously trying to wipe it out._

_He formed a fist and smashed it against her face, but Danny continued laughing even as she hit the ground and still later when his men continued to beat her._

Danny emerged from her memory with a fierce hatred and boiling anger. She had spent an hour at the center of a circle of ten soldiers, receiving blow after blow as they had tried to force the whereabouts and intended recipient of the letter from her.

Looking down below her now, Danny was mortified to see that while she had been entranced in her memory, the gang had begun the ambush. Even now, Allan cut down the soldier driving the team of horses and hacked at the yoke connecting the two horses to the wagon. They ran off towards Will and Djaq, who had already severed the ropes that caused several crossbows to fire arrows from different directions. Four of the men cried out as they were struck by an arrow, but only one had been fatally wounded. After waiting for the volley to end, Robin, Little John, and Much burst from the brush, screaming intimidatingly as they hacked at the unprepared men closest to them, cutting them down.

Danny saw one of the soldiers point a crossbow at Little John and so she was spurred to action, fluidly reaching behind her and nocking an arrow. Pulling the bowstring to the corner of her mouth, Danny inhaled and let the arrow fly, already reloading before she could see the previous missile hit its target, the exposed area between the helmet and chain mail.

Feeding her anger with the fear that the people she cared about most in this world could be hurt, Danny became hidden death. She leaped from tree to tree and loosed several arrows, each one hitting and killing her target. Seeing a man duck behind the armored carriage and begin to sneak up behind Much, Danny drew one of her short swords and rushed down the hill, screaming like a madwoman as she jumped between the soldier and Much, parrying the man's swing of his sword with her bow as she plunged her blade into the man's midriff. Danny pulled it out and plunged it in again, watching as the man fell to his knees and then to the ground, sliding off the point of her weapon as he died.

Seconds later, it was eerily quiet since the Merrymen had dispatched all of the soldiers that had been charged with protecting the caravan from the outside. Danny turned to Much, who was still staring silently at the man on the ground that had almost succeeded in killing him. Knowing the way the Much was feeling, Danny simply clapped a hand to his shoulder and nodded at him silently, turning away to certify that Allan was not injured.

The boys and Djaq had congregated at the back of the wagon, their weapons still drawn and Robin's bow was nocked with an arrow. Danny sighed when she saw that Allan was unharmed and went to stand next to him, tossing aside the bow that was too badly damaged to fire another arrow. Making sure that her hood covered her face, Danny drew her remaining short sword and stood in a wide stance, bending her knees slightly as she readied to pounce.

Robin glanced at his men, counting them to make sure that they were all there and had miraculously escaped from serious harm. Nodding, he turned back to the task at hand, calling to the wagon, "We know that you're in there. Surrender and you will not be harmed."

The men inside the carriage were silent and so the group split, each moving to a side of the wagon. Again, Robin, the only one who had not moved, yelled, "Come out slowly and you will not be harmed."

Almost immediately, the back doors of the carriage were thrust open and five men leaped to the ground, yelling as they tried to locate their assailants. Quickly, Robin fired an arrow at one of the men holding a crossbow and Danny stepped forward and attacked the other archer from behind. Within moments, the rest of the soldiers had been killed and the Merrymen stood alone and victorious on the road.

Breathing heavily from her exertion, Danny raised a hand and pushed back her hood, searching for Allan. Before she could move however, Allan snatched her up in an embrace and pressed his lips against hers, displaying his gratitude that she was unhurt. Danny returned his kiss and ran her hands over his shoulders, needing to reassure herself that he was unharmed.

He leaned back and beamed down at her, placing a dirty hand against her cheek. Danny smiled back at him, but before either one could say anything, they heard a cheer emanate from inside the carriage.

Releasing each other and turning toward the wagon, Danny and Allan saw that it was Much who had yelled and the reason was apparent. He stood before an open chest, the dimensions of which were about four feet long by three feet wide and at least three feet deep. It was filled to the brim with gold coins, jewelry, and several precious stones and objects. Plunging his hands into the chest, Much turned and held his hands out to the gang, allowing them to have a closer look at the treasures.

Danny smiled at Little John, who already seemed to be thinking of the number of families who would be helped by this one afternoon of work. He had such a big heart and Danny was humbled in the face of his selflessness.

"All right," Robin called, holding up his hands for silence. "Let's get this back to camp. John, Will, and Djaq, you get this and the horses back to camp. Make sure that you don't leave any tracks. The rest of us will take care of this mess."

Everyone scrambled to follow Robin's orders, but Danny walked over to the corpse nearest to her and stared down at it. The man had an arrow in his arm from the crossbows that Will and Djaq had set off, but it was clear that it had been an arrow from Danny's own bow that had dealt the death blow. She continued to stare at the man at her feet for a moment, but then Much appeared at her side.

Clearing his throat, he said, "We're lucky that you came along today." He paused and amended, "Well, I know that I'm lucky, at least." He gestured at the dead man on the ground. "That would be me otherwise. So—"

Taking a deep breath, Danny decided to stop Much's rambling. She laid a hand on his arm and smiled at him, saying, "You're like family to me, Much. You all are."

Much was momentarily speechless and in that moment, Danny turned her eyes back down the corpse and frowned, growing unbelievably angry at what she saw. Bending down, she reached behind her and drew her dagger, slicing away the lion patch from the soldier's arm. Holding the patch of cloth in her hand, she stood, mumbling to Much in answer to his silent question, "They aren't worthy of bearing King Richard's symbol."

Walking away from Much, she traveled from dead man to dead man, slicing the lion away from each of their arms and holding it lovingly in her hands. Once she had accomplished this, she began to help Allan, Robin, and Much gather the bodies and dispose of them.

An hour later, they all walked back to camp while Danny held the two most precious things to her in her hands: King Richard and Allan.

* * *

A few days later, Danny hefted the heavy bag back onto her shoulder as she called out her farewell to the grateful townspeople. She, Djaq, and the boys were out distributing the loot that they had taken from Prince John's men with relative ease. Upon returning to the camp, Danny had learned that Little John had received a minor laceration on his forearm and that Will had suffered a small cut through his eyebrow. Both were easily cleaned and taken care of by Djaq and then they had all sat down to celebrate their victory.

Amid the festivities, Robin had held up his hand, calling for silence. He walked into the center of them all and began speaking. "Today," he began, "we welcomed a new member officially into our midst. Danny," he turned to look at her while she blushed and he continued, "welcome to the Merrymen."

There had been several loud whoops of congratulations and cheer and Danny had laughed right along with everyone else, feeling like she actually belonged there for the first time since she had awoken to her new life.

She smiled now as she remembered her induction ceremony, returning to the present. The gang began walking out of town, carrying their provisions so that they could give them to the next village. Much began to whistle a cheery tune and Danny lost track of time, but they soon descended into the next town and were immediately encircled by happy children.

Gladly, the Merrymen gave away their remaining supplies and gold, quickly joining in a game with the children since their jobs for the day were done. Danny laughed and joked, smiling broadly and feeling a warmth in her chest that she began to hope was permanent. But, of course, it was not to be so.

It was late in the afternoon when the last of Danny's luck ran out.

Danny had been playing a simple game with the children when she got the distinct feeling that she was being watched. Looking up in alarm, she exhaled heavily and smiled when she saw that Allan was leaning on a fence post ten feet away, staring at her with undisguised heat in his eyes.

Not having seen such a look since that night in the forest over two weeks ago, Danny blushed and turned quickly away, running a hand through her hair as she tried to cool the heat in her cheeks. Suddenly feeling bold, she spun back around to him and let that desire, that burning need, which he inspired in her to show in her eyes. Since the moment when he had told her he would make her his own, Danny had been cautious and nervous around Allan, trying to keep her attraction to him innocent so that she would not be tempted to touch him as she had before…so that she would not lose control again…

Forgetting her decision to take things slow, Danny stopped playing the game immediately. Letting her arms fall to her sides, she parted her lips slightly and lowered her head so that she looked up at him with heavy-lidded eyes, eyes that betrayed her longing for him to kiss her, to touch her…

Feeling a thrill of pleasure as she saw Allan stand upright at her gaze and swallow heavily, she smiled, slowly closing the distance between them. She saw his eyes follow her every step and she unconsciously felt her hips swaying in response to his obvious approval. Soon, she stood before him—mere inches from his face—and she tilted her head to the side as she met his eyes silently, waiting for him to make his move.

His eyes traveled down her cheeks to rest on her mouth, flicking back up to meet her gaze quickly as he raised a hand and gently slipped it into her hair, guiding her closer to his mouth. She felt his breath on her wetted lips and then she whimpered quietly as his soft mouth caressed her own.

Outwardly, the kiss appeared almost chaste, like a quick meeting of lips, but to Danny it caused an explosion in her chest that spread heat all the way to her fingertips and toes. It still amazed her how a simple taste of his mouth could affect her in such a sensual way.

As she rested her hands on his hips, still lost in his kiss, Danny heard a voice calling to them, but it traveled to her as if it was from a distance. "We've got company!" someone shouted, probably Robin.

Thankfully paying more attention than she had been, Allan gently pushed her back with a regretful smile, promising softly, "Later."

She smiled, following behind him as he led her back toward the gang so they could see what it was that Robin was fussing about.

Still lost in Allan's warmth, Danny kept her eyes to the ground as they rounded the corner that brought them back into the center of the town.

Feeling Allan stop abruptly, Danny was confused when he instinctively moved to stand before her, hiding her from something that was in front of them. Frowning, she peeked around Allan's frame and her eyes opened wide in surprise and fear.

Not five feet in front of them stood two soldiers, helmetless and dressed in black tunics with red sleeves: Prince John's men. Shock rooted her to the spot and her breathing became rapid as she met the eyes of the soldier who turned to study the newcomers.

Simultaneously, recognition dawned in both him and Danny.

Flipping through her meager memories, Danny located this specific man. He was the soldier who had beaten her bloody all those weeks ago as she had knelt submissively with her hands shackled at the feet of his commander. He was one of the soldiers who had been tasked to hunt her down, extract her information…and then kill her.

Before Danny could leap from behind Allan to silence the soldier, he raised a hand and growled with so much venom in his voice that it was barely human, "You!"

At his outburst, his companion turned with a frown to see what he had and so was treated to a clear view of Danny as she strode toward them. Studying the second soldier's face, Danny was able to pick him from her memory as well. He was another one of those soldiers who had taken turns using her as a punching bag.

Hatred boiled up within Danny, she felt her face harden, and she continued her stalking toward them with one intention: to harm them, to _kill_ them.

Perhaps they saw the murder in her eyes, perhaps they realized that she had several people behind her willing to fight with her, but, for whatever reason, the two soldiers turned tail and ran, sprinting out of town as swiftly as they could.

Danny's hatred was replaced by fear. She couldn't let them escape. They knew who she was, they would be able to find her! They would hunt down the Merrymen and kill them in order to get to her. She could not let them bear the news of her appearance! She could not let them live!

Vaguely, she felt Allan's hand encircle her arm and she could feel the confusion and questions emanating from all those surrounding her. In her desperation, she was unable to answer them, unable to ask their permission and approval for what she was about to do.

A calmness and certainty spread over her limbs and Danny felt as though Gwyn was reclaiming control of her body. Unlike Danny, Gwyn was able to detach herself from her emotions. She allowed the tranquility to flow through her that was needed to do what must be done. Gwyn was a weapon.

Pulling free from Allan's grasp, she strode over to the building against which she had laid her new bow and quiver. Grabbing a handful of arrows, Gwyn swiftly gathered her bow and returned to the road, affording her a clear shot of the two retreating backs of Prince John's soldiers.

Quickly, before anyone had a chance to ascertain her objective, Gwyn nocked an arrow and aimed, inhaling deeply as she let it fly. It was utterly quiet as the missile arced through the air and then buried itself in the back of one of the men, causing him to tumble to the ground in death. Knowing that her duty was not finished, Gwyn deftly fitted yet another arrow to the bowstring and pulled the string taut, anchoring it to her mouth. Inhaling deeply, she focused on her target, willing herself to hit it, knowing that her survival and the survival of her new family depended on her.

Just as she was about to release the deadly weapon, she was unexpectedly struck from behind by two rather heavy and strong people and they all tumbled unceremoniously to the ground. Someone's elbow stuck Danny in the gut and she writhed around in the dirt, struggling to breathe and rise simultaneously so that she might finish what she had started.

As she rose to her knees and gripped her bow tightly, glancing around her furiously for an arrow, she saw a fist grip her weapon tightly, trying to wrench it from her hands.

"Danny!" she finally heard a voice yell frantically. "What are you doing?"

Looking up into Allan's incredulous face, Danny yanked back on the bow, standing quickly. She gathered her muscles to run, to follow after the surviving soldier, but she felt strong, large hands grip her upper arms and hold her steady, prohibiting her from making any movement.

Breathing heavily, she dropped her bow and struggled feverishly, growling and snarling inhumanly as she kicked and wriggled, but nothing she did lessened the strength of the grip.

"You have to let me go!" she screamed in a voice that she didn't recognize. "You cannot let him escape!"

"Danny!" Allan screamed again, appearing in front of her with a frightened and disbelieving look in his wide, glassy eyes. "Stop this!"

She paused for a moment, but the need to save herself—to save her family—was too pressing and she began her struggles anew, resuming her senseless screaming like a woman possessed.

"You must let me go!" she screamed at everyone and no one. "You don't understand! You _must _let me go!"

Almost immediately, she felt herself lifted off the ground and shaken twice, her head snapping back and forth and her teeth clacking together.

She heard Robin's voice speak sharply to her. "Enough, Danny," he growled in anger. "He's already gone."

As her feet touched the earth again as she was lowered, all fight left her and she sagged to the ground, finally breaking free of the hands that had gripped her so tightly that she already felt bruises forming. With her face in the dirt, Danny curled into a small ball and beat her hands against the earth in fear and frustration, loud and anguished sobs escaping from her throat.

A hand rested her on her shoulder as if in comfort, but it felt like it burned her, branded her. In rage, her eyes became like ice and she snapped her head up, her sobs ceasing immediately, and she slapped the hand away viciously.

Terrifyingly, she felt nothing but consuming fury in her heart as she found herself looking into the eyes of the man she had loved mere minutes ago. She wanted to strike him, to tear at his chest with her fingernails, she longed to make that frightened look disappear from his eyes, make him understand what they had done…

Looking into her eyes, Allan gasped as he saw a woman whom he had never met possessing Danny's body. Madness was in her eyes and anger contorted the planes of her face. Scared and confused, he whispered, "Danny, what have you done?"

Spitting in her fury, she retorted, "I tried to save us." Turning her accusing glance to the other members of the gang, she growled, "But now, we are _ruined_."

She turned her gaze back to Allan and as he was captured by her gaze, it was almost as though a switch was flipped in her eyes and he could once again see the vestiges of the woman whom he loved. The madness and fury disappeared from her eyes and her face crumpled as crushing despair, desolate sorrow, and unimaginable pain replaced her previous emotions.

As tears ran down her dirt-streaked cheeks, she whispered, "I've destroyed us all."

Without another word, Danny slumped back into the dirt, hiding her face as her shoulders shook with her silent and terrifying sobs.

* * *

**So, what did you think? Worth the wait? Please review and let me know!**

**:)**


	14. Death

**Hey guys, here's another chapter so hopefully you don't start chucking rotten fruit at me! I admit I probably deserve it, but I just lost steam on this so this is for Laura, whose review finally gave me the drive I needed to finish it!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except for Danny/Gwyn.**

* * *

**Chapter 14: Death**

Danny had never felt so broken in her entire life.

She had been in some tough scrapes, she had come to know the true meaning of pain, and she had felt the stinging slap of betrayal. She had been hunted, tortured, threatened, frightened, forgotten, and lost. She had been abandoned and she had been disappointed.

But nothing compared to this. Nothing had _ever_ prepared her for this..._emptiness_…this helplessness_._

It was dark now, the flames of the fire illuminating her face with an unearthly, shadowy light. The Merrymen had returned to the camp—Little John and Will had had to march her along from the village, each holding one of her arms—and Danny had collapsed immediately when they had let her go, leaning with her back against this tree, unfeeling and uncaring.

The sun had set and the camp had remained in silence, each inhabitant waiting for someone else to ask the question, to start the conversation. Danny sat silently, staring at nothing with her gaze aimed unblinkingly off into the sky, unfocused and disconcerting. She hadn't moved. She barely breathed.

She hadn't met the gazes of anyone since they had left that small town. She hadn't been able to look at Allan and even now, she still couldn't see him, but she could _feel _him. Somehow, she knew exactly where he was and what he was doing. What she didn't know however, was what he was _thinking_…and she wasn't sure that she wanted to.

She knew that right now he sat twelve feet away from her, on a log diagonally to her left. He sat perfectly still, his eyes focused unwaveringly on her with his elbows resting on his knees while he held his chin in his hands. His face sported a frown and his eyes showed the utter depth of his confusion. His thoughts were surely racing…

Danny honestly didn't know how long she sat there. It could have been three hours or three days. All she knew was that everything had been ruined. She had allowed that soldier to escape and even now her enemies could be learning of her whereabouts and readying an expeditionary force to find and capture her.

While this thought haunted her, there was another that tore at her insides and ate at her heart: the people who had come to welcome her—to see her as part of their family—were disgusted with her. She had killed a man in cold blood. It was not something that they could forgive. Even now, she was sure that they were plotting ways to get rid of her, to ask her to leave, to banish her.

And she hated herself. She knew that she should just leave and spare them the chore of kicking her out, but she couldn't. She loved them all too much and part of her hoped—_prayed_—that they might one day understand.

And so she sat. And she feared. And every second she died a little more.

When their burning looks of accusation became too much for her to ignore, she raised a pale arm and slipped her hood onto her face, obscuring everything and everyone from her unseeing gaze except for the ground directly below her.

"That's enough," a man growled as he stood and stalked over towards Danny, stopping about ten feet away. From the voice, Danny knew it was Robin. "Danny," he started and though she couldn't see him, she knew from the tone of his voice that he was shaking his head in confusion and raising his arms out to his sides. "Why?" he asked simply.

She wanted to answer him, but she knew that they wouldn't accept the truth and so she remained silent.

She heard Robin shuffle his feet before he said frustratedly, "You have to help me understand, Danny. Because, right now, I honestly don't know what to do with you."

He paused, giving her time to answer again, but at her silence, he spoke softly. "You killed a man," he said with emotion. "We all saw it. It was murder, Dan. Plain and simple."

Hearing his condemnations, Danny felt the tears well in her eyes. Knowing that nothing she said would change their minds, she spoke, whispering in a shaky voice, "While regrettable, it needed to be done."

With her eyes still covered, Danny heard another person stand, walk closer to her and, judging by the sound, she guessed that it was Little John. "But why?" he asked insistently, anger tainting his words.

"They saw me," she replied flatly. "They knew me."

"We are spotted all the time," Djaq's lilting voice protested furiously, "but we do not go killing everyone who recognizes us! We do not _shoot_ them in the _back_!"

Shrugging, Danny replied tiredly, "Dead is dead. It doesn't matter how."

"So you admit that you're a murderer?" Robin asked.

"Of course I am," she replied, memories of the faces of people she had killed in battle flitting through her mind. In Danny's mind, war did not legitimize taking the life of another.

There were several cries of shock and outrage around the camp, but Danny couldn't bring herself to care. She had already lost them. They already thought the worst of her.

There was a long silence then, which was eventually punctuated by Robin's heavy sigh. "The way I see it," he spoke reasonably. "We have three options. The first, is that we forget it ever happened."

This choice was met with several loud objections, so Robin continued, "The second, is that you leave and never come back."

This option was answered with silence, presumably since the Merrymen were all waiting to hear the last choice, but preferring it to the first. "The third," Robin said sadly, "is that we hand you over to the Sheriff. Let _him_ deal with your actions."

Danny closed her eyes, vowing that she would never succumb to the last option. Handing her over to the Sheriff meant defeat and certain death. Even now, even when she was broken and crippled beyond repair, it was not in her to surrender.

Breaking the silence, Danny asked morbidly, curious to know just how deep their disgust for her ran, "And what shall my fate be?"

Silence rang throughout the camp once more. Danny wasn't the only waiting for Robin to make his decision, but he finally answered, "I don't know. I honestly don't know."

"Robin," Djaq pressed insistently, "She's a murderer. She cannot stay."

Danny heard two other people voice their agreement, but she couldn't tell who they were. She then heard Robin exhale heavily again before he said, "I need the night to sleep on it. I'll make my decision in the morning."

Sitting on the ground, Danny nodded her head silently. Slowly, she rose to her feet and gathered her black cloak around her, wrapping her arms around her torso as she shielded her entire body from their hateful gazes. Eyes staring at the ground, Danny turned to her right and began to walk away from the fire into the darkness of the trees, unable to be around people whose hatred was pouring off them in undulating waves.

As she reached the brink between the illuminated area and the dark forest, she stopped and turned around, raising a hand to push her hood from her head and allowing herself to study those who had been as a family to her.

Five pairs of eyes stared at her with varying degrees of accusation hidden in their depths, but one pair was unable to meet her searching gaze. Robin, Djaq, Will, Much, and Little John had turned to watch her leave the camp and they had all risen to their feet at some point, but Allan continued to sit on that log. It appeared that he had not moved or uttered a sound during the whole conversation.

Her eyes roved over his body, taking in the slump of his shoulders and the dejection and shame on his face. His eyes would not meet hers, but stared intently at the ground, breaking Danny's heart and confirming her suspicions.

Raising her chin, she spoke in a low voice to the Merrymen. "You're not safe here anymore," she warned flatly, no emotion in her voice as she simply stated the facts. "They will hunt you. They will burn the forest to the ground in order to find you. They will use you to get to me…and then they will kill you. You're not safe here. You must leave. It's your only chance."

Having finished what she needed to say to them, she turned around without waiting for any reaction or response and slunk into the shadows, pulling the hood back over her brilliant, red hair and fading into the darkness.

* * *

Robin had been wrong. There was a fourth option available to her.

She would run. She would lead her pursuers on a merry chase away from her family, away from Sherwood, and away from Allan. It was the last thing that she could do for them, the last admirable act that she could commit, the last sacrifice that she could make.

She would leave in the night. Once the gang had settled down and fallen asleep, she would steal into the camp and gather her things, fading into the darkness and disappearing into the mist. It would be as though she had never existed.

As she stood upon the riverbank, Danny recognized the symmetry that she and Allan's relationship would end where it had begun, in the same place that Allan had first kissed her. For she knew that he would come. He _had_ to come. He wouldn't be able to let his questions go unanswered.

She stood there for several long moments, stock still with her cloak still wrapped tightly around her body, looking around at her surroundings by the pale, clear light of the moon. She watched the water bubbling over the rocks and she watched the light breeze stirring the trees. She listened to the quiet sounds of the forest, focusing on the squawks of the nocturnal birds and the whispers of the running stream.

Surprisingly, she was calm. There were no butterflies in her stomach and there was no indecision tormenting her body, eating her from the inside out. She had once dreaded the moment when she had needed to push Allan away, had hated herself for hurting him, but this was different. His life depended on her leaving. To save him, she had to abandon him. And so she would.

She heard him coming long before his torch illuminated the bank. She did not turn around to meet him, but continued standing with her back to him, allowing him to gather his jumbled and confused thoughts before confronting her.

"You killed that man," Allan finally said brokenly.

"Yes," she spoke clearly, her back still to him. "I did."

"You would have killed the other one, too," Allan stated.

It wasn't a question, but Danny answered it anyway. "Yes," she confirmed, finally turning around to him. "I would have."

He was standing about ten feet away from her, backlit by the flickering flame of the torch that he had wedged between some rocks so that she could barely make out his features. What she saw in his face would have broken her heart if it hadn't already been destroyed earlier.

His face was haggard and his body was broken. He couldn't stand up straight and even now he slouched, his arms hanging limply at his sides. His hair was in disarray as if he hadn't been able to quit running his fingers through it in his confusion and his clothes were slightly askew. It was his eyes, however, that showed the most hurt. Countless emotions swirled in their depths, but Danny could decipher only a few. Anger, confusion, betrayal, hurt, love, hatred, loss, and disbelief.

"I didn't even recognize you," he whispered, tears glistening in his eyes. "Earlier in the village. I looked into your eyes…and you weren't there, Danny."

"I was desperate," she replied quietly. "I was mad with anger and grief. I knew that my failure would endanger you all and I wasn't able to cope with that."

"You slapped my hand away," he recounted, his voice betraying his hurt. "I tried to comfort you, but you wouldn't let me. You promised never to push me away again. And you broke that. You lied to me, Dan."

"I guess I did," she answered honestly. Guiltily, she recalled that she had been lying to him from the very start.

No longer. She would tell him the truth from now on. He deserved it.

He shook his head silently and looked to the night sky, trying to keep his tears from falling. With his chin in the air, Danny was unable to see his tears, but she could hear them in his shaking voice as he finally asked the question that she had been waiting for, "Why?"

"Does it matter?" Danny responded tiredly. "What's done is done."

Allan took two steps toward her in anger. "Yes, it matters," he growled. "I would like to know that the woman whom I loved felt at least some remorse over needlessly taking a life today."

Danny stared at the ground, his words causing a throb to ache in the scattered, broken pieces of her heart. He had said that he "loved" her. In the past tense. As in not anymore.

Inside her hood, she nodded her head once resolutely. It was done. She and Allan were finished. He was so disgusted with her that she wouldn't have to hurt him and she would never again be able to disappoint him once she disappeared.

Still, even in light of her pain, she could not keep her fury in check. "I did not _needlessly_ kill anyone!" Danny retorted angrily. "Don't you know me at all?" she asked, her quiet voice betraying her hurt.

"I thought I did," Allan responded even more quietly. "But it's like you said," he paused and shrugged his shoulders as he explained, "I know _Danny_, I like _Danny_," he shook his head in disgust as he finished, "but I don't know Gwyn. I don't _like_ Gwyn_._"

Danny stepped back in her shock, turning away from Allan as she wrapped her arms around her torso to keep herself from flying apart. What could she do now? She had allowed her true self to show through, but it was not someone for whom Allan could care. She had no reason to stay anymore, but she still felt the need to explain herself.

Unable to meet his eyes, Danny cleared her throat and explained with her back still to him, "Three days ago, I had another memory. In it, I had been captured by a garrison of Prince John's soldiers. They had been chasing me for days in order to retrieve the letter, but, when they finally caught up with me, I had already stashed my bag in the tree."

She paused to look at him and, while he wasn't looking straight at her, she could tell that he was listening and so she continued. "The commander demanded that I tell him where it was. I politely declined. He then tossed me to his soldiers and allowed them to beat me to a bloody pulp, which I can only assume caused the bruises that I was sporting when you lot first found me in the woods."

Allan nodded, then shrugged his shoulders. "So it was revenge, plain and simple?" he asked disbelievingly, anger in his voice. "You didn't have to kill him. We could have captured them, done something, _anything_ but what you did."

"They _knew _me, Allan," Danny tried to explain again, baffled as to why no one seemed to understand this fact, why none of them realized that she had been trying to protect them. "They would have run straight to their commander and told them what they had seen."

"So?" Allan asked insistently, his voice raising. "So what if they saw you? They would never have found you here!"

"Don't you understand what they want from me?" Danny asked incredulously, stepping menacingly toward him. "They will _kill_ for this letter! They already have!"

Danny paused for a moment and lowered her voice, struggling to explain the fear that she felt, "They would have mentioned the people that they saw in the village. Then not only would the commander have come after you and the Merrymen, but he would have massacred the whole town in order to capture me." Danny shrugged her shoulders, emotion making her voice shake, "I couldn't let that happen, Allan. I love you all too much to let you suffer on my account."

"You should have told us!" Allan screamed, his hands running angrily through his hair. "We could have helped you! But now…." He trailed off, shaking his head and not wanting to finish his sentence.

He would never understand. None of them would ever understand. It had come down to a choice between her family and the lives of two rotten soldiers and Danny had chosen her family. She would do it again in a heartbeat with no doubts and no hesitation, but the Merrymen couldn't see it that way. For them, the matter wasn't black and white like it had been for Danny.

In a last effort to make him understand, Danny whispered, "I know that it's hard for you to understand. But it was a choice between putting my family in danger and letting those two traitorous soldiers live." She paused and stood tall, the conviction in her words making her voice strong as she finished, "I'm not ashamed of my choice. I did the right thing. I know that."

It was silent for a very long time as Allan stared at the ground, shaking his head in disbelief, his disgust for her apparent in the very lines of his body, in the posture of his shoulders. It pained Danny to see his evident hatred of her and so she wanted to run, to put distance between them, but first she had to say her good-byes. As strong as her desire was to leave, she couldn't do it without saying those first.

Clearing her throat, Danny stated firmly, "I'm leaving, Allan."

"Fine," he grunted, gesturing to the path with his hand. "Do whatever the hell you like."

She had thought that her pain had reached a limit, that the throb of disappointment and sadness in her chest couldn't get any worse, but she had been utterly wrong. She had told him that she was leaving and he didn't care. He _wanted_ her to leave.

Tears welling in her eyes, she couldn't stand to be near him any longer. She began to stride quickly toward the path, but as she came even with his shoulders, she stopped. "Good-bye, Allan," she whispered whole-heartedly and then she was past him, jogging up the path so that she wouldn't break down in range of his ears.

Before she could disappear into the trees however, she heard his voice yell frantically after her, "Wait!"

Wanting to heed his command but unable to, Danny continued jogging, breaking into a sprint when she heard his quick footsteps following behind her, chasing her as he finally understood that her farewell had been final and not just temporary. Her tears blinded her and hindered her flight, affording him the opportunity to catch her and grip her upper arm tightly, yanking her back and forcing her to stop.

He forcefully turned her around to face him, moving his hands to hold her two wrists securely, and savagely tugged the hood from her head, revealing her tear-streaked cheeks and heaving chest. He stared intensely into her eyes, blatant and total fear the only thing that Danny was able to see in his as he searched her face.

"What do you mean 'good-bye'?" he asked hesitantly, fearful of the answer.

Sighing, Danny replied, "I have to go, Allan."

He shook her once, making her head sway, and demanded, "Where?"

"Anywhere but here," she whispered, a fresh tear leaking from her eyes.

"No, you don't," he said forcefully. "You have to stay here." He paused and forced her to meet his intent gaze, begging with a shaking voice as the first of his tears escaped his eyes, "You have to stay here with me."

Cursing him, Danny bowed her head as sobs ripped through her chest. Why did he have to make this so hard on her? Why couldn't he have just let her go? Why couldn't he have held onto his anger long enough for her to sneak away?

Allan released one of her wrists and gripped her chin, lifting it gently back to his own level. "I love you, Danny," he whispered and before she could stop him, he was pressing his own soft lips against hers and pulling her tight against his body.

Danny knew that she should stop him, that she should push him away, but she just wanted one more kiss, one more caress, one more feel. And so she melded herself to his body, moving her lips under his as he tried to silently voice his love for her and she for him. She ran her hands through his soft hair, down his wet cheeks, across his broad, strong shoulders, and down his lean back. She gripped his hips tightly and ground her lower half against him with a small, sensual moan that had him gripping her backside and pulling her even more closely against him. She memorized his every muscle, every angle, every inch of his body with her hands. She recorded the sound of his pleasurable moans in her mind and her lips were branded by the warmth of his. Lastly, she savored the taste of him on her tongue as she brushed his with her own.

And then she pushed him away. Hard.

Steeling her gaze, she repeated, "I'm leaving, Allan."

"No," he objected, stepping forward toward her again and reaching for her with his arms.

She took a step back, restoring the distance between them. "I have to go, Allan. I will not put all of you in danger any longer."

"So what will you do?" he demanded angrily. "Turn yourself over to Prince John himself?" He shook his head forcefully as he answered his own question, "No. He'll kill you with his own hands for the trouble you've caused him."

She shrugged. "I can't stay here," she replied.

"Yes, you can!" he shouted.

"No, Allan," she repeated firmly, her eyes flashing. "Everyone back at camp thinks I'm a murderer. _You_ think I am a murderer."

"I don't deny that I disapprove of what you did," Allan began calmly, "but I _will not_ let Robin hand you over to the Sheriff."

"You won't have any choice, love," she whispered as she stepped closer and laid her hand upon his cheek, calling him the name that he usually reserved for her. "It's five against one. They don't want me around anymore. And I can't blame them. I won't fight them on this."

"Then I'll come with you," Allan stated firmly, closing the remaining distance between them and laying a hand on her hip, clenching it so tightly that Danny knew it would bruise.

She raised her other hand and placed one on each of his cheeks. "Oh, Allan," she breathed, knowing that the time had come for her to bid him farewell. "I never knew that it was possible to love someone as much I love you."

Allan shook his head. "Don't," he demanded. "Don't you say good-bye. I'm coming with you."

"You saved me when no one else could," she continued, ignoring his demand. "You knew me before I knew myself. You were there for me when I needed you most."

"Stop," Allan begged, sobs racking his shoulders. "Please stop."

Danny shook her head as her own tears began anew. "I can't," she replied emotionally. "I need you to know what you mean to me."

Unable to keep quiet any longer, Allan ducked his head and wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, crying loud, wet tears into her neck as his body shook. Quietly, she held him and ran her fingers through his hair, comforting him.

Brushing her lips against his ear, she continued to whisper to him. "I always wondered what love was," she confessed. "I wondered if it even existed. I used to think that it was just a pretty tale told to young maidens so that they wouldn't fear marriage." She paused as she pressed a light kiss to his neck. "And then I found you. And you proved me gloriously wrong."

Allan gripped her more tightly as he gasped for breath. Losing her own control, Danny held him just as closely as she buried her own face into the curve of his neck as well. They wept together for several minutes, each reluctant to release the other, and Danny suddenly knew that all the pain she had felt earlier was nothing compared to the level of utter desolation that she was now experiencing. She had thought that she understood the true meaning of pain, but the pain of leaving the man she loved more than her own life felt like being pierced with twenty burning swords. She had never known such sorrow.

Soon, Allan's sobs quieted and he was able to speak. "I won't pretend to understand why you think you need to do this alone," he began quietly, still speaking into Danny's neck as he refused to lessen his grip on her, continuing, "but I'll let you go. I'll let you go if you make me a promise."

Danny knew that she was in no position to promise him anything and so she remained silent, but Allan begged, "Promise me that someday—when all this is over—that you'll come back to me." He paused and then insisted angrily, shaking her slightly in his desperation, "Promise me, Dan."

Danny closed her eyes and exhaled a deep breath. She could not make that promise to Allan. She had been lying to him for so long and she knew that the time for honesty had come. Even so, she hesitated for a moment, knowing that what she was about to tell him would hurt him irreparably.

He deserved the truth—she knew that—but was it the right thing to do? Regardless of whether she was honest with him or not, she was still leaving as soon as possible and maybe…maybe it was _kinder_ to let him believe that one day she would return to him, that one day they could be together again. The Merrymen would never allow her to return to the gang—not after what she had done—and once she led her pursuers away from Sherwood she wasn't coming back so…why not allow Allan to keep a little hope?

_Because he'll follow you_, a logical voice within Danny spoke. _Once he realizes that you are not coming back to him, he won't rest until he finds you and then what will you do? Whether you break him now or break him later, the fact remains that you must break him at some point. If you love him, release him now and let him live his life. Let him go, _the voice insisted.

Thoroughly shamed, Danny knew that the small, logical part of her was right. It was selfish for her to keep Allan bound to her, knowing that she would never return to him. The only thing to do was let him go and, to do that, she had to make sure that he would be too incapacitated to follow her.

There was only one thing she could tell him that would destroy him so deeply.

Steeling herself and forcing herself to be strong, Danny released her hold on Allan and stepped back, sliding her hands down his arms until she interlaced her fingers tightly with his. Unable to look in his eyes, Danny wiped her tears from her cheek with the back of her hand as she stared at the ground. Clearing her throat, she began hoarsely, "I've not been entirely honest with you, Allan."

Her statement was met with silence, but finally he croaked, "What?"

"The other day," she tried to explain, "The night that I came to get you in Nottingham…" Danny paused as she tried to find the right words to explain, "I ran away from you and the next day I pretended like you meant nothing to me. I told you that it was because I remembered my name, but that wasn't the truth, Allan." Danny's voice broke over the last few syllables as she found the strength to look him in the eye.

Allan retreated a step in shock as his hands clenched even more tightly around hers, so that his knuckles showed white in the deepening gloom of the night. Barely breathing, he asked flatly, "What is the truth?" Terrified of the answer, his voice shook as he asked, "What have you been hiding from me?"

Vowing not to cry again—vowing to be strong—Danny finally spoke the whole truth to him. "I'm promised, Allan," she stated in a firm voice. "I'm to marry another man."

Allan's only reaction to her news was to blink twice as though in confusion and drop her hands, letting his own swing down to his sides and slap off his thighs. Seeing that he was still in shock and absorbing her statement, Danny decided that she had to twist the proverbial knife a little more, push it a little farther into his chest.

"There can never be anything between us, Allan," Danny managed to say without breaking down, trying to hurt him. "Whatever this is—however strong my feelings may be for you—we can never be together." The tears began to fall from Danny's eyes as everything that she had allowed herself to hope for—the future that she had allowed herself to picture with Allan—crumbled down around her. "There is no future for us, love," she explained. Swallowing heavily, Danny stated brokenly, "I'll never be yours."

Shaking his head frantically from side to side, Allan blinked furiously as he tried to make sense of what she was telling him. "No," he denied vehemently. "No, I love you and you love me. That's all that matters. We can get through anything. We already have."

Having used up all of her strength to tell him the truth, Danny was too exhausted to do anything but shake her head sadly. "I do not have the luxury of marrying for love," Danny responded mechanically, repeating the words that her father had told her so very long ago.

Confusion in his eyes, Allan quietly insisted, "But we're meant to be together."

"I'm so sorry," Danny choked out, refusing to give in to the sobs that were threatening to shake her shoulders.

Unable to breathe, Allan fell to his knees, his eyes staring blankly into the distance. Giving into the pain, he doubled over as he grasped at his torso, trying to hold himself together as his other fist beat futilely at the ground. His tears were silent until he could no longer hold the pain inside and he screamed his anguish, fury, and heartache for all the forest to hear. It reverberated in the darkness and startled the birds from their roosts, filling the air with their indignant squawking, and bringing a whole new level of suffering to Danny's heart.

The pain in his yell was so raw—so intense—that Danny was unable to suck any air past the sudden blockage in her throat. His pain hurt her so badly that it was impossible for her to stay next to him. She had to get away, had to get away…but her legs were leaden and she stumbled as she took uneven steps, leaning against the trees when her knees buckled.

"You lied to me!" Allan screamed at her back when she had staggered ten feet away from his broken, crumpled form. "You told me you loved me!"

Unable to bear the anger and hatred contorting his face into a man that she didn't recognize, Danny dug deep into her being and found the part of her that was purely Gwyn, the part that was oblivious to pain and refused to cry or show any sign of weakness.

In that moment, her agony was so great that Danny died…and Gwyn was reborn from the destruction.

Staring down at Allan, Gwyn pasted the strong, unaffected façade that she had perfected onto her face, refusing to allow any sign of doubt or grief to show in her features. She was a noble woman and noble women had to be strong. Danny had been too weak.

And so Gwyn lifted a pale hand and pulled the black cloak up over her hair to cover her face, thereby making her one with the darkness of the forest, and then she slunk away from the defeated, prostrate form shaking in despair on the forest floor, like the shadow that she truly was.

* * *

**So what do you think? Worth the wait or not worth the wait?**


	15. Gwyn

**Hey everyone! So a few things: the first is that I realized I said in the last chapter that I had found the drive to "finish" and many of you thought that last chapter was the last part of this story. THIS ISN'T TRUE! What I meant what that I had finally been able to finish that _chapter._ We still have quite a bit more story ahead of us!**

**Secondly, I know it's been an unmentionable amount of time since I last updated and I am so so sorry! So here's a quick recap:**

**_ Danny and the gang were handing out loot that they had stolen from Prince John's men to a local town when two of the soldiers that had_**

**_ captured and beaten Danny before she was found by the Merrymen came. Recognizing Danny, they ran, but Danny killed one of them,_**

**_ angering _****_the group. Facing banishment, Danny decided to leave of her own accord to save her friends, but in the process she had to leave _**

**_ Allan, _****_telling him that she was betrothed and breaking his heart. Unable to stand the pain, Danny gave herself up and let Gwyn take over._**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything except for Gwyn/Danny. Wish I did, though.**

* * *

**Chapter 15: Gwyn**

Her mind as black as the night shrouding her, Gwyn stole through the forest, listening intently to the sounds of the wood for any sign of an intruder. She had left the sounds of Allan's pain, despair, and anger far behind her, soldiering on despite the feeling of cold, clammy death inside her chest, the last remnants of the woman who used to be Danny.

Gwyn wasn't certain of many things, but she knew three truths to be incontrovertible. The first was that she needed to gather her belongings and sneak away from Sherwood Forest as quickly as possible. The second was that leaving Allan behind had been the best thing to do—both for him and for Danny. The third truth—and the one that it was hardest for her to accept—was that even though she was no longer Danny, she was not truly Gwyn either.

She was something in between—not Danny, but not yet Gwyn.

She wasn't entirely sure what had happened back there with Allan. All she knew was that Danny had surrendered, opening a void for Gwyn to occupy, but even _Gwyn_ didn't yet know exactly whom Gwyn was. There were no additional memories to guide her way nor were there any insights into where she came from or why she had come to Sherwood. Gwyn was just as much in the dark as Danny had been.

The only difference was that Gwyn was _alone_ in the dark.

Just like Allan was now.

Shaking away the gloomy thoughts, Gwyn focused on the task at hand as she drew nearer to the camp. Standing upon the riverbank as she waited for Allan, Danny had lost track of time, but judging from the silence and darkness of the camp just ahead of her, Gwyn noted that it now had to be almost halfway through the night. She stood on the brink of the forest, scouting for several minutes to be certain that the Merrymen were asleep and wondering why Little John was not to be found among the sleeping, prostrate forms.

Putting his absence from her mind, Gwyn slipped from the cover of the trees and picked her way masterfully and silently among the huddled bundles, indicating where each member of the gang slept. Kneeling down next to her own bedroll, she carefully rolled up her weapons in the thick cloth, keeping them from knocking against each other and waking the others with the metallic clatter. Standing, she walked over to the shelves in the camp, retrieving her rucksack from under the bench and placing the black, velvet bag with the jewelry box inside, instinctively taking it with her although she knew it to be empty. On a whim, she also grabbed an extra pair of the gang's breeches and a shirt of Allan's that she had recently mended to exchange with her tattered dress.

Glancing around the camp, Gwyn's eyes alighted on the cache of weapons that the Merrymen maintained. Apologizing silently, Gwyn guiltily snatched one of Robin's extra bows and a quiver filled with arrows, vowing to someday replace her thefts.

As silently as she had entered, Gwyn left the area where the gang was sleeping and climbed the hill out of camp. Knowing that she shouldn't, Gwyn couldn't repress the urge to look back one more time, memorizing the place that had become a home to her and the people who had been like family to Danny.

Strangely, Gwyn felt a twinge of remorse. She knew that _Danny_ had not murdered that soldier, but that _she_—Gwyn—had. Gwyn was the coldblooded killer. _She _was the warrior. It was her fault that Danny's family had disowned her and banished her. It was Gwyn's fault that Danny had died.

It was Gwyn who had broken Allan.

The guilt and hatred for herself rose in Gwyn's throat like bile and she could not stand to stay another moment in the company of people whom she had harmed and betrayed. Turning her back on the Merrymen, she jogged quickly and purposefully away from the camp, towards Nottingham so that she could attempt to make some sort of amends to the gang, Allan, and Danny.

Her plan was firm in her mind. In order to keep Prince John's men from hurting Danny's friends, Gwyn would sacrifice herself and return to her life on the run. She would lead the soldiers away from Sherwood and the Merrymen so that Prince John's men could never use them against her.

But first, she had to break into Nottingham—into the Sheriff's castle—because that was where the captain of the guard would be, the man who had bound and beaten Gwyn when she had been caught.

Settling into a pace that Gwyn knew she could keep up until she reached the town, Gwyn wove between the moss-covered trees, relying on the light of the moon to illuminate her way. Her long hair and cloak streamed behind her, catching on the twigs and branches, but she didn't pause to free herself, instead letting her motion pull herself free. The twigs and leaves became entangled in her hair, but the cloak never tore.

When she was almost a mile away from the gang's camp, Gwyn noticed the orange, flickering light of a torch in a clearing just ahead. Stopping her flight, she laid the bedroll on the ground, unrolling it so that she could attach her short swords to her belt. Shoving her bedroll into her rucksack, Gwyn drew her weapons from their sheaths and crept toward the light, wishing to see who had come so close to the camp. Were Prince John's men already here?

Pulling her cloak up over her twisted hair, she stealthily stole to the edge of the clearing to see who was there. Frowning at what she saw, Gwyn dropped all suspicion and wariness as she stepped out of the dark and into the light.

"I was wondering when you'd get here," a deep voice growled at her.

Sheathing her weapons and pushing her hood back from her face, Gwyn stared at the man sitting on a small rock next to the flickering torch. "What are you doing here, Little John?" she asked quizzically.

"What does it look like?" he answered gruffly. "I'm waiting for you."

Confused, Gwyn stepped forward until she was three feet away from him. Kneeling on the ground before him, Gwyn questioned, "What do you mean?"

Resting his elbows on his knees, John leaned forward and replied, "I figured you'd do something foolish. And I was right, wasn't I? Here you are," he gestured at her with his hands, "All ready to run off into the night. Never to be heard from again, just like a coward."

Shaking her head in vehement disagreement, Gwyn insisted, "I'm trying to make things right."

"By leaving?" Little John asked angrily.

Scoffing, Gwyn pushed herself to her feet and pointed an angry finger at John, yelling, "You wanted me to leave!"

Also standing, John yelled back, "I wanted you to take responsibility! To admit that what you did was wrong!"

Growing quiet, Gwyn leaned back on her heels and folded her arms across her chest. "I can't," she said. "I don't believe that I did anything wrong. What I did, I did to protect you. All of you! You don't understand the danger that I'm in, the danger that now the gang is in because you were seen with me."

"We understand danger well enough," John countered. "We are outlaws, after all."

"Outlaws from an inept, incompetent fool of a sheriff!" Gwyn yelled. "Not from Prince John! He has resources that the Sheriff can only _dream_ of! The Merrymen wouldn't last _two weeks_ if Prince John were hunting you."

"A chance that we would have taken," John replied calmly.

"You say that now," Gwyn responded. "But if you knew—"

"A chance that we would have taken for _you_," John interrupted her, grabbing her upper arms tightly. "You're part of this family. You're one of us. We do anything to save one of our own!"

Extricating herself from his grip, Gwyn walked backward while still facing him. "I _was_ one of you," she said quietly. "But not anymore."

Gwyn turned away from Little John and had taken a step when she heard him call from behind her, "And what about Allan?"

Bowing her head, Gwyn sighed and turned back, true indifference on her face as she shrugged and replied, "What about Allan?"

Disbelief appeared on John's face as he shook his head. "Who are you?" he asked sadly. "The Danny I know would have done _anything_ for him."

"Yeah, well," Gwyn shrugged again, "Danny's not here anymore."

"Clearly," John said with a nod. "_Her_, I liked. But _you_…" John trailed off with a shrug, leaving the end of his statement to Gwyn's imagination.

Bowing her head, Gwyn rested her hands on her hips and laughed humorlessly.

"Danny told me that she was afraid of you," John continued softly, careful to differentiate between Danny and the woman who stood before him now. "She told me that she didn't like you, didn't like the murderer that she knew was inside of her. You know what I told her?"

Obliging him, Gwyn replied, "You told her that she didn't have the whole picture. To wait until she knew more about herself before forming an opinion."

John nodded. "I told her that you couldn't be all bad, but that she shouldn't let anyone come between her and Allan." Little John paused as he bent to pick up the torch that was staked in the ground, but then he caught her eye again and continued, "Especially if that person was you."

He stepped closer to Gwyn and said, "Danny loved Allan. So a part of you must love him as well." He paused for a moment and exhorted, "Don't do this to them. _Don't_ tear them apart."

Glowering up at him from beneath her eyelashes, Gwyn defended herself, "I'm doing what I have to."

Little John stepped closer and leaned down to within inches of her face, studying her. After a few silent moments in which they glared at each other, Little John gritted his teeth and shook his head. "No," he whispered, "You're doing what's easiest for _you_. So go ahead. _Run_." Little John leaned back and pushed past her, walking towards the tree line, but then turned back, condemning, "But I have a feeling that you won't be able to live with what you've done. You will always be haunted by the memory of Danny and of her love for Allan and his for her, a love that you will never know. See if you can live _that_."

Without another word, John turned away from her in disgust and headed back in the direction towards camp. Gwyn stood rooted in the same spot, watching his retreating back until she could no longer see the light from the torch as the darkness of the forest swallowed him.

Alone again, Gwyn walked over to the rock on which Little John had been sitting and dropped heavily on top of it, thinking over what he had said to her. At the forefront of her thoughts was what he had said about Allan and Danny, namely that since Danny had loved Allan, then Gwyn must love him as well. Searching deep within herself, Gwyn looked for any feelings she bore toward Allan, almost desperate to find something so that she could prove to herself that she wasn't as selfish and cruel as John had said she was.

She searched, but all she could find were the memories of _Danny's_ love for Allan. Gwyn herself felt grateful to him, but she did not love him. When Danny had died, the feelings that this body Danny and Gwyn shared had had for Allan also perished.

Having only proven Little John right, Gwyn hissed in anger and pushed herself up from her seat, launching herself into a sprint towards Nottingham as she strove to leave behind the words that John had spat at her and the feelings of disgust that he inspired in her towards herself.

But even though she ran, she could not outrun his words or his hatred.

Because he was right. It was impossible for someone as wicked as she to give or receive an emotion as pure and as innocent as love.

* * *

Judging by the height of the moon, Gwyn could tell that there were only a few more hours left until dawn. Rolling her neck on her shoulders, she allowed herself to try to dispel some of the stiffness in her limbs. Now that dawn was almost upon her, Gwyn knew that she had to act soon and act fast. She had been sitting in this same exact spot for hours, scouting the walls of Nottingham town and trying to find a weak spot where she could penetrate the defenses.

And find it she did.

On the south side of Nottingham, there was a small, deep, brook that flowed underneath the walls that allowed the villagers to collect fresh water without leaving the safety of the town. To stop any intruders from sneaking into the village by means of swimming in the stream, a grate had been placed across the opening, barring the way so that no one could fit between the bars. In case of a siege however, Gwyn had noticed that there was a gate underneath the water within the grate that could be unlocked to allow the Sheriff or any other person to escape.

Or—in this case—it could be unlocked to let someone _in_.

This grate was guarded by two men, one on each side of the brook and the surrounding area was illuminated by several torches, ensuring that anyone approaching would be seen and that there could be no surprise blitz attack. There was also a man patrolling on top of the wall, who would make a pass every five minutes, staying close enough that he could hear the guards calling for help if anything should happen. Upon the belt of each guard was a key ring that held several iron keys, one of which Gwyn assumed opened the gate in case of emergencies.

Over the years, Gwyn had accumulated several talents—archery, swordplay, pick pocketing, sewing, cooking, and many others—and she knew that tonight she would use most of them. It was absolutely vital that no one was alerted to her presence and now—after killing one of Prince John's soldiers—all the guards would be on the lookout for her, which explained why she wasn't able to try to talk her way into the gates like she had once before.

Gwyn knew that she could not achieve entry by means of brute strength, so she was going in by means of stealth and careful strategy.

And now, after several hours of interminable waiting, her plan was about to be set in motion.

As she watched, one of the guards turned and spoke a few inaudible words to the other, gesturing towards the woods in which Gwyn was hiding. The other guard nodded and the first began striding towards the forest. Gwyn followed him, one with the shadows and embracing the dark. As the man entered the shelter of the trees, he was oblivious to the fact that Gwyn approached within touching distance of him.

Choosing a tree, the man lifted his tunic and began to take care of his pressing business. Taking advantage of his distraction, Gwyn slithered from the brush silently and crawled up behind the guard on her hands and knees, reaching a hand up toward his belt. Just before her nimble fingers relieved the guard of his keys, some instinct convinced him to turn around to look behind him.

Quickly, Gwyn lay flat upon the forest floor, her face pressed into the earth so that her pale skin would not draw attention. Satisfied that he was alone, the guard turned back to the tree. Once again reaching toward his belt, Gwyn succeeded in unhooking the ring, grasping the loose keys tightly so that they wouldn't clink together and alert the guard to her presence.

Crawling back through the undergrowth, Gwyn quickly retreated away from the guard and went back to a spot at which she could see the grate and the remaining guard clearly.

She waited until the guard she had stolen the keys from returned to his post to be sure that he didn't notice anything was amiss. The guard seemed perfectly at ease, so Gwyn nodded and began the second part of her plan.

Using the trees as cover, Gwyn came upon the brook. Stripping off her heavy cloak, Gwyn stood upon the bank in her borrowed shirt, breeches, and boots. Checking to make sure that her weapons were secure, she slipped the key ring over her hand and onto her wrist for safe-keeping, reaching behind her and tying her hair up with a leather thong. Taking a deep breath, Gwyn slipped into the brook, quelling a gasp of shock at the cold temperature of the water. She looked at the distance that she would have to swim to the grate and then realized that she would also have to try to find the right key while still underwater and prayed that she would be able to hold her breath for that long.

Knowing that she hadn't a moment to lose, she ducked her head under the cold water and swam to the bottom of the brook, which was about five and a half feet in depth. When she judged that she was about halfway to her destination, Gwyn began to feel the cold trickle of apprehension slide down her back as she realized that she had already begun to crave fresh oxygen. For the first time, she doubted that she would be able to complete her plan.

Still she swam on and just when she was about to give up and turn back so that she could try again, her scrabbling fingers collided with the metal grate. Calming herself and focusing on her task, Gwyn felt the grate, looking for the keyhole. Finding it, she slipped the key ring off her wrist and felt for the first of the six keys, stabbing it into the hole and hoping that it would fit.

Nothing happened.

Choosing another key, Gwyn repeated the process, her lungs now begging for air, but again the gate did not open. Placing another key frantically in the lock, Gwyn prayed, and let out a bubble of air in frustration when the gate didn't unlock.

Now she was desperate for air, but it was impossible for her to do anything. She did not have enough air to swim far away enough from the guards so that she could breech the surface, take a breath, and then try again. If she rose to the surface now, then she would surely be seen, caught, and then handed over as a prisoner to the captain of the guard.

Her only choice was to fit a fourth key into the keyhole. Begging it to fit but not entirely believing that it would, Gwyn was therefore surprised when the key turned and she could pull open the gate slightly.

Carefully, she opened the gate only a sliver, hoping that the guards would be looking forward to the trees instead of down at the water and so wouldn't notice that the gate was opening. Pulling herself onto the other side of the grate, Gwyn spent a few precious seconds relocking the gate before she continued to swim. After only a few kicks however, she burst through the surface and gulped in fresh air, the keys still clasped firmly in her hand.

After a few moments of simply breathing, Gwyn shook her head and focused herself, swimming until she could see faint light that signified the end of the tunnel. Again submersing herself, Gwyn swam until she was sure that she was out from under the walls and in a place that no guards would be able to see her. Warily, she peeked her head out of the water and looked around her, not seeing anyone near the water's edge nor any lights nearby.

Convinced that she was alone, she pulled herself out of the brook with her arms and shivered in the cold night air, wishing that she could wrap her thick, traveling cloak around her shaking limbs. Dripping water, she nimbly pranced nearer to the walls of the Sheriff's castle, studying the colossal obstacle in her way.

The castle was separated from the villager's huts by a thick wall, keeping any unwanted visitors out of the Sheriff's private quarters and the prison. The huts however, were very close to the wall, leaving very little space between them so that if she were to climb on the roof of one of the huts, the top of the castle wall would only be ten feet above her.

Seeing a rope nearby, Gwyn knew that this part of her plan would be the easiest to execute. Grabbing the rope, she fashioned a quick slipknot, turning the rope into a lasso of sorts. Choosing the tallest of the huts near the wall, Gwyn climbed up to the roof and swung the rope above her head, letting it fly loose up towards a merlon. Smiling when she saw the rope secured around the stone, Gwyn gave an experimental tug and then began to climb the rope, reaching the top of the castle's wall with little effort.

Ten minutes later, Gwyn had reached the ground on the other side of the castle wall and had snuck into the stone building through a door opened by a soldier on patrol, slipping though the opening before it had closed behind him.

Having successfully breached the defenses, her true mission began.

Unfamiliar with the castle's layout, Gwyn spent almost an hour winding through the various corridors and checking in rooms, looking for where Prince John's men would be billeted. The castle was silent except for the occasional clanking of chain mail when a soldier passed by on patrol, therefore when Gwyn heard voices coming from a room in the third floor east corridor, her curiosity got the better of her.

Following the sound of the voices, Gwyn came to a thick, closed, wooden door. Pressing her ear against it, she could hear two muffled, male voices within but was unable to make out any words. Wanting to know what they were saying, Gwyn looked around her for another way in, opening the next door to her right and slipping into the room.

This room looked like a spare bedroom and Gwyn was unable to discern any form sleeping in the bed so she assumed that she was alone. Looking around her, she saw a door on the opposite side of the room that led to a small balcony. Crossing to the other side, Gwyn opened the door carefully, wincing when it gave a prolonged squeak, and then stepped out onto the balcony. She looked to her left and was pleased to see that the locked room the two men were inside also had a balcony, but that its door was also open a crack to allow a faint breeze to enter the chamber.

Listening intently, she could still hear their voices emanating from the room, but was unable to make out their words. Studying the distance between the balconies, Gwyn decided that she would be able to jump from one to the other. Pulling herself on top of the railing of hers, she stood tall and looked down at the ground almost a hundred feet away and then she fearlessly launched herself off the railing, soaring through the air only to land catlike on the balls of her feet on the other balcony.

Standing with her back flush to the stone wall, Gwyn crept closer to the door, gently pushing inward on the frame near the hinge to open it wider. As the voices became clear to her, Gwyn allowed herself a small smile and settled in to listen.

"What exactly are you suggesting that we do?" she heard a man say in a strong, deep voice.

"I'm saying we do to her what we do to any other outlaw," a second man said.

"But she's not just some outlaw!" the first man argued.

There was a silent pause and Gwyn imagined the second man to be glaring at the first. Finally, he spoke mockingly, "Do I detect some leftover feelings for her, Gisbourne?"

"Of course not," the first man said quickly, who Gwyn now knew to be named Gisbourne.

"Good," the other man replied. "Now, the Night Watchman will be executed tomorrow afternoon in the square. All are to attend so that they may see what we do to people who think themselves above the law. Being from a noble and respected family will not save anyone from persecution nor will being a woman lessen the sentence."

"Yes, Sheriff," Gisbourne said, alerting Gwyn to whom he was speaking.

She had stumbled upon a private conversation between the Sheriff and Gisbourne, the man whom Allan had briefly collaborated with and the Sheriff's right hand man. But who was this Night Watchman and what had she done?

"Be sure that everyone knows the Watchman has been caught, Guy," the Sheriff continued. "When Robin hears that we are going to execute his beloved, he'll storm the castle to rescue his damsel," the Sheriff finished jokingly with a laugh.

"Shall I announce the execution of the Night Watchman or actually give Marion's name?" Gisbourne asked for clarification.

Gwyn slapped a hand to her mouth to quiet her surprised gasp. The Night Watchman was Marion! The woman whom Robin loved! Danny had never met Marion, choosing instead to disappear into the woods with Allan whenever she came to see Robin, but Gwyn knew that she acted as a spy within the castle, giving Robin what information she could garner. Something about meeting her had always worried Danny and made her feel unsafe, but now it seemed that Marion had gotten herself captured somehow and the Sheriff was going to make her hang for it!

Tuning back into the conversation, Gwyn heard Gisbourne ask, "And what of Captain Revelle?"

"Captain Revelle can go hang himself," the Sheriff replied disdainfully. "I won't waste my resources trying to find one girl when I need everyone tomorrow to watch for Robin and his little band of misfits."

"You heard what he said about her," Gisbourne countered. "She's not _just_ a girl!"

"After tomorrow, I will give Captain Revelle whatever he wants," the Sheriff responded dismissively. "Robin Hood has evaded me long enough. I _will_ have him tomorrow! Then, once he is dead, we shall help Captain Revelle end this girl and finish what we started."

There came a knock upon the door.

"Sir?" a voice called through the wood. "Captain Revelle has asked to see you in the Great Hall."

The Sheriff sighed. "What could he _possibly_ want this time?" he bemoaned. "The sooner he finds and kills that girl, the better."

Gwyn heard the door open and two pairs of footsteps recede down the hall and then silence once again.

Leaning her head back against the stone, Gwyn thought over what she had just heard. Maid Marion was locked in the dungeons beneath the castle and the Sheriff was using her as bait to lure Robin into Nottingham where he would surely be caught and hanged alongside of her. She had also learned that a Captain Revelle—whom Gwyn assumed was the commander of Prince John's soldiers—was indeed within the castle and demanding that the Sheriff help him in his search to find a certain girl, which Gwyn could only assume was herself.

As she saw it, Gwyn had two choices. The first was to finish what she started and make herself known to Revelle, thereby leading him away from the castle and the Merrymen. But if she did that, she wouldn't have the opportunity to warn Robin about Marion and the ensuing trap and then all of the Merrymen would be in danger.

No. Gwyn's only viable option was the alternative. She had to break Marion out of the dungeon and return her safely to Sherwood before continuing with her mission.

Decided, Gwyn panicked when she noticed that dawn was approaching. Soon she would lose the darkness and then her chance to escape with Marion would be lost. Spurred into action, Gwyn slipped into the now vacant room and left through the door, more cautious than before since now Marion's life rested on her shoulders as well.

It took her longer than she planned to reach the dungeon, running into a pair of guards that stood talking in the hallway instead of continuing their patrol. She had to wait several minutes for them to meander far enough down the corridor so that she could slip down the passageway, but soon she was in the dungeon.

It was dark and dank and she spent several minutes scouting the fragrant room, checking to see if there were any other guards besides the two jailors sitting at a small table with tankards in front of them. Again relying on the same stealth that she had used to steal the keys from the guard earlier, Gwyn removed her short swords from their sheaths and gripped them tightly in her palms as she crept up behind the two oblivious guards. Raising her fists over their heads, she simultaneously brought the pommels down on their heads with enough force to knock them both out silently. Unconscious, they slumped onto the table, mouths gaping.

Checking their belts, Gwyn removed the keys from the bigger jailor, quickly walking over to the only occupied cell in the room. There was a huddled lump on the cot that Gwyn assumed was Marion so she fit the correct key in the lock and swung the gate open. At the loud creaking, the lump sat bolt upright on the cot and turned to face Gwyn, defensively raising her hands before her.

Speaking quietly in the darkness, Gwyn called, "Marion?"

An equally soft voice replied warily, "Who are you?"

Stepping into the cell, Gwyn grabbed hold of one of Marion's wrists. "My name is—" she paused for a moment, deciding how to introduce herself. Robin had told Marion of his guest and new addition to the Merrymen, but Marion had only known her as Danny. Swallowing heavily, Gwyn lied, "My name is Danny. Robin sent me to get you out."

"Robin?" Marion squeaked, jumping up from her cot. "Let's go."

Leading Marion out of the cell and over to the table, Gwyn urged, "Help me with this," referring to the unconscious jailors.

Five minutes later, the jailors were bound, gagged and locked up in Marion's vacant cell. Grabbing Marion's hand, Gwyn said, "Stay close to me."

Gwyn led Marion carefully up the stairs, motioning for her to stay put while she went to scout the passageway. Satisfied that the coast was clear, she led Marion into the lighted passage and hurried her down the corridor.

Twenty minutes later, Gwyn and Marion huddled against the merlons on the castle walls and Gwyn despaired that the town was waking and that dawn was just turning the edges of the sky pink. They had to hurry or they wouldn't make it!

Wrapping the rope around the stone, Gwyn gestured for Marion to drop onto the roof of the house, quickly following suit and then worrying that she had to leave the rope behind, a clear sign that someone unwanted had been in the castle. Unable to remove it however, Gwyn urged Marion even more quickly toward the brook.

Upon reaching it, Gwyn gave her instructions. "You must stay under the water until we're underneath the wall. Stay close behind me and I'll tell you what to do."

Marion nodded with wide eyes as her chest heaved from worry of being caught again. Trying to dispel some of her tension, Gwyn said lightly with a smile, "It's nice to finally meet you."

Marion also smiled, "I think I'm the one who is more pleased to make your acquaintance. If not for you, I'd still be stuck in that cell."

"Come on," Gwyn said, returning to the business at hand. "I've got to get you back to Robin."

Gwyn turned back to the brook, but Marion caught her hand, whispering, "Allan's lucky to have you."

Guilt rose within Gwyn, but without turning to look at Marion or acknowledge what she had said, Gwyn slid into the brook without a splash and then motioned for Marion to do the same. They both took deep breaths and dove beneath the water, staying low to the bottom to lessen the risk of being seen in the gathering light.

Once Gwyn felt the smooth stone to her left that indicated they were in the tunnel underneath the wall, she grabbed Marion and pulled her to the surface, greedily sucking air into her deprived lungs. Leaning close to Marion, she explained to Marion about the gate and how she, Gwyn, would unlock it, allow Marion to go through, and how Marion had to keep swimming until she could no longer hold her breath, hoping that then she would be far away enough from the guards.

"Aren't you coming?" Marion asked intently.

Gwyn considered for a moment. She _could_ always go back and do what she had snuck into Nottingham for, but she worried that Marion would need her help to return to Robin and the Merrymen. Soon Captain Revelle would be leaving the town to search for Gwyn in the surrounding lands and if Marion ran into him then she would simply be brought right back to the Sheriff.

"Of course I'm coming," Gwyn related. "But I'll need to lock the gate behind us."

Marion nodded and followed Gwyn as she led the way down the tunnel. Reaching the grate, Gwyn once again ducked beneath the water and fitted the correct key into the keyhole, opening the gate slightly and pushing Marion through. Following her instructions, Marion kept to the very bottom of the brook and did not let any air bubbles escape that would alert the guards to the presence of something in the water.

Just as she slipped through the gate herself, Gwyn heard the sound that she had been dreading. Even under the water, Gwyn could hear the clang of the warning bell, alerting the guards to trouble. Had Marion's absence been noticed? Had the rope been found on top of the wall? Or had Marion and she been seen in the village?

Not caring about the answer to her questions, Gwyn forced herself to continue with her task, calmly closing the gate and swimming along the muddy bottom of the stream until she thought her lungs would burst. Unable to go any further, she broke through the surface and was pleased to see the canopy of the trees overhead, telling her that she was hidden safely in the forest from the guards.

She pulled herself out of the water and tried to gather her bearings. Not recognizing the area around her, Gwyn assumed that she had swum past the place where she had left her cloak and so she silently walked along the edge, constantly looking and listening for any sign of Marion. After almost twenty feet, Gwyn came across her cloak, wrapped it gratefully about her shoulders, and pulled the hood up over her hair, hiding her face from view. She was worried now that she still hadn't found Marion. Had she made it further down the stream than Gwyn had?

Suddenly Gwyn heard a twig snap directly behind her over the din of the still clanging bell. Spinning around, she pulled her dagger in a fluid motion and faced her attacker, sighing and letting her shoulders slump when she saw it was just a dripping Marion.

Stepping close, Gwyn spun the dagger in her hand and offered it to Marion, whispering, "I need you to move as quietly as you can."

Marion nodded silently and took the proffered dagger, following Gwyn as she led her directly into the forest.

Hours passed and the sun rose, but Gwyn refused to let them talk until they were safely ensconced within Sherwood Forest. They had taken the long path, doubling back often to make sure that no one was following them and confusing their trail so that no one could track them. Gwyn knew that it was only a matter of time before the guard realized his keys were missing and then the Sheriff and his men would search along the brook's banks for any sign of them.

Therefore it was almost midmorning before they crossed the border into the Forest, enveloping Gwyn with the familiar blanket of safety that she always felt when she was in Sherwood. Frowning, she remembered that that safety would soon be compromised once Revelle learned of the Merrymen's connection to the woods.

Knowing that she couldn't go back to the camp, Gwyn turned to Marion. "This is as far I go," she said gruffly. "Can you find your way from here?"

Marion looked around with a frown. "I think so," she said unconvincingly.

Gwyn nodded. Not one for long good-byes, she then turned and immediately began walking away from Marion. Before she had gone too far however, Gwyn sighed and spun back around to Marion, unable to get the safety of the gang out of her mind.

"Marion," she called out loudly.

Marion turned back to Gwyn with a questioning expression on her face.

"Robin is in danger," Gwyn said. "The whole gang is. I tried to tell them, but they won't listen to me."

Marion stepped toward Gwyn and asked, "Why not?"

Ignoring her question, Gwyn asked one of her own, "While you were in the castle, did you hear of a Captain Revelle?"

Marion nodded.

"This man will come after the Merrymen," Gwyn insisted. "He will do whatever it takes to find them. And then he will hurt them unless they tell him what he wants to know." Gwyn stepped closer to force Marion understand. "You must convince them to leave, Marion. I fear that only you will be able to sway Robin's mind."

"You know this man?" Marion asked adamantly. "This Revelle?"

Gwyn nodded. "I know of him," she replied.

"Do you know why he's here?" Marion asked insistently, her eyes trying to see into the recesses of Gwyn's hood.

Again, Gwyn nodded.

Marion bowed her head and stared at the ground. Grabbing Gwyn's hand, she looked back up and pleaded, "I need you to come with me. Back to camp."

Gwyn shook her hand free and said, "I can't."

"You have to!" Marion yelled. Taking a deep breath she continued, "When I was in the castle, I overheard a conversation between Revelle and the Sheriff. What I heard was so disturbing and important that I had to sneak into the Sheriff's room to find proof to show to Robin. That was when I got caught." Marion grasped Gwyn's wrist tightly again, frantically saying, "Revelle is dangerous. What he was sent here to do…" Marion trailed off, but then continued, "We're going to need your help, Danny. Robin won't be able to do this on his own."

Marion's intensity frightened Gwyn. Whatever Marion had overheard was important enough for her to have risked her life to try to procure proof.

"If you know Revelle," Marion continued, "then you know what he's capable of and why what he's here to do absolutely _cannot_ happen. You have to help us."

Gwyn was torn. Returning to camp meant facing the Merrymen who had just yesterday wanted to hand her over to the Sheriff to face the punishment for murder. But wasn't the risk of not returning to camp even greater? If what Marion said was true and she had important information, then Gwyn had to remain behind and do what she could.

Reluctantly, she nodded and extricated her wrist from Marion's grip. "Let's go find Robin," she said quietly.

Walking past Marion, Danny could only hope that the Merrymen would see the bigger picture and allow her to stay.

* * *

**What did Marion hear? How will the gang react to Gwyn's return? How will _Allan_ react? Stay tuned to find out!**

**Review maybe? That would be cool...just saying. :)**


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